


Rituals of the Moon

by Guardian_of_Hope



Series: Huntress [1]
Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Beginning Friendship, Cannon Death, Complete, Crossover, Family, Mystery, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-20
Updated: 2011-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-17 03:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 21,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_of_Hope/pseuds/Guardian_of_Hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna Campbell joined the BAU as an occult specialist and is a puzzel wrapped in a mystry locked in an enigma.  With her phone calls to her 'brothers Sam and Dean', her ability to ignore or deflect personal questions and a mask that seemed impenetrable, she is the local curiosity for the BAU.  That is, until Penelope Garcia attempts a simple background check on her at Derek Morgan's request, and a mysterous phone call tells them to leave Anna Campbell's past in the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stirrings of the Occult

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the first half of season one for both series. This story will use Supernatural episodes to establish the time line and the Criminal Minds episodes for frame work.

They gathered in the conference room reluctantly, twelve hours after getting back from a case and they all wanted to go home and sleep some more. Derek slumped slightly in his chair, eying Reid’s mug of coffee flavored sugar while pondering if the sugar coma would make the caffeine worth it. Reid, seemingly oblivious, lifted his mug into his hands and drank slowly. “Everyone,” Hotchner said as he stepped in the room, followed by Strauss. “I know you are all tired, but this meeting will be short.” He took a seat, leaving Strauss to focus of all their stares.

“There has been an upswing in the number of cases with an occult overtone,” Strauss said. Derek wondered if it was the idea of the occult, or the team that made her look like she was eating sour lemons. “In response to this, the Bureau is assigning a new agent to your team. Her name is Anna Campbell and she will arrive on Monday.” The section chief paused for a moment, “Although Anna’s academic credentials are impressive, she is also fresh out of Quantico. I expect you to treat her appropriately.”

Derek frowned as he watched Strauss leave, and then turned to Hotchner, “Hotch,” He asked, “She’s joking, right?”

“I’m afraid not,” Aaron Hotchner replied, his most inscrutable mask in place. “You are all to go home,” he stood up, “I don’t expect to see any of you before Monday, do you understand me?”

“Right,” Derek said, standing up slowly, “thanks Hotch. See you Monday.” He heard the others saying their goodbyes as he headed for the door. Spotting the bright dress of Garcia, he summoned up a grin, “Hey baby girl.”

“Hey sweet cheeks,” Garcia replied, stopping to let him catch up, “what’s up?”

“Just wondering if you could do a back ground check for me,” Derek replied.

“You, of all people should know that I can,” Garcia said, huffing in mock indignation.

“Sorry,” Derek said, slipping his hand over her shoulder, “I mean, would you run a back ground check for me?”

“Better,” Garcia said, “who am I looking up?”

“New agent,” Derek replied quietly, “Anna Campbell.”

“I can have that done in a heartbeat,” Garcia said, turning back towards her office.

“Not right now, sweetie,” Derek replied, “go home and get some rest. I just want to know something about her before she gets here on Monday.”

“I’ll do that,” Garcia said, giving him a bright smile.

“Thanks,” Derek said and kissed her cheek, “I own you one.”

xxXXxx

Monday morning found Derek arriving at his usual time, seven thirty, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a bagel in the other. As he opened the door to the BAU, he wondered if someone had actually gone so far as to start the coffee. Seeing Reid with his mug and a slight smile, Derek knew that Reid had taken care of it. Reid, in fact, was talking with Elle, his head tilted to one side, eyes bright as he shared whatever it was he had thought of. Elle had the slightly glazed look that people who had spent too much time around Reid tended to have. As Derek came closer, Reid looked up, “Good morning, Morgan,” he said, his smile warming even more.

“Morning Reid,” Derek replied, “Elle.”

Elle blinked at him, “Derek.”

Derek put his coffee down and settled down, “So, any news?” He asked, glancing between his coworkers.

“Ms. Campbell isn’t here yet,” Reid offered. “Hotch and J.J. are up talking in Hotch’s office. Gideon is running late because of a dentist appointment.”

“Right,” Derek said, wondering if he had time to go find Garcia.

“ _Gotta fight another fight, gotta run another…”_

“Hello?” The three BAU agents jumped at the sudden ring tone, turning towards the doors. Standing there was a tall woman who looked frustrated as she held a cell phone to her ear. “Sam?” The woman said, pushing some of her short, dark brown hair from her face. “Honey, you have to calm down and breathe for me ok? In and out.” Although her face revealed her confusion, her tone was calming and light. “All right baby bro, now, start from the beginning,” she said after a moment. Whatever she heard next shocked her, Derek thought that he could literally see her going pale. “H-how?” She managed after a moment, her free hand sliding into her pants pocket. “Hold on, Sam, ok? I want to write this all down.”

Derek started to reach for a piece of paper, but Elle beat him to it, practically leaping across the bullpen with a clipboard and a pen. “Here,” Elle said.

“Thank you,” the woman said, “What? You to, Sam, now, begin again, you came home…” Deftly she juggled the pen, clipboard and phone until she was able to write down whatever she was hearing. “Ok, now Sam,” she said after a long moment, “what happened before that? Where were you?”

Whatever answer she’d gotten startled her so bad that she jerked and dropped her phone, “Dammit,” she muttered and scooped it up, “Sorry, Sam, I’m juggling here. Did you say you went _hunting with Dean?”_

Another pause, one that made her face flush and she seemed to be glaring at nothing in her anger. “All right, Sam, where is he?” A pause, “I’m going to yell at him.” Another one, “No, put him on the phone.” She rolled her eyes, “Look, _Samuel_ , I am standing in the middle of the FBI, with at least three people eavesdropping, if you want, I can start telling stories, or you can put your thrice cursed brother on the damn phone.”

Another eye roll, aborted as she scowled again, “Dean, it’s your twin. Shut up, I have something to say to you.” She looked at the agents and turned around, staring at the glass door. It didn’t help muffle her voice, but granted her an illusion of privacy. “I don’t know what _possessed_ you to go after Sam and I don’t care. He got _out_ of the family business, how dare you drag him back in. Sam is our chance to make the family mean something. You promised me he’d get the chance to have something other than a G.E.D. and a give’em hell attitude. You _promised._ That’s the _only_ reason I left, was because _you_ said you’d get Sam his chance.” She stopped abruptly. “Oh, Dean, I’m sure… he did? Where?” Again, the woman juggled things around to scribble something down on her pad. “Ok, Dean, what was he doing… Really? Dean, you promised.” She heaved a sigh, “A road trip is exactly what Sam needs right now. Especially if Jess and Mom…yeah. I’ll call Sam later and you can give me a real update, I’m at work. Just got here, but it’s like a curse, first day, family crisis and I’m in trouble.” She barked a laugh, “I know right?” The woman turned back around, “Is Sam still hyperventilating or did he faint yet?” She laughed again, “It’s Sam, he faints.” Eye roll, “Talk to you later, twin, love you.” Pause, then more laughter, “Just don’t go telling people you’re with the FBI ok? I’d hate to have to hunt my own brother.”

She hung up the phone and sighed, pressing the heel of her palm into the side of her head. “Is everything ok?” Elle asked.

The woman half jumped, as if she’d forgotten where she was, “Yes, thank you.” She straightened up, shoved her phone in her pants pocket and pulled off the sheet of paper she’d used. “And thank you for the paper.” She stepped closer to them and handed Elle back her clipboard.

“It’s not a problem,” Elle said, taking the clipboard and sliding it onto her desk, “I’m Supervisory Special Agent Elle Greenaway; this is SSA Derek Morgan and Dr Reid.”

“Anna Campbell,” the woman said with a nervous smile, “I guess I found the right place?”

“This is the BAU,” Derek confirmed, standing up and leaning against his desk. “Out of curiosity, what was that phone call about?”

Anna bowed her head for a minute, “The original caller was my brother Sam. His fiancé died in a fire early this morning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Derek said quietly.

Anna took a deep breath, “It’s ok, I mean, I’d met Jess a couple of times, but we weren’t close.” She took another deep breath then straightened up, “However, I having a meeting with Agent Hotchner at eight and since my watch has been broken since I moved into my new place, I am afraid that I have been made inexcusably late. If one of you could be so kind as to steer me in the proper direction, I need to go grovel.”

“Hotchner’s office is up those stairs,” Derek said, gesturing.

“And it’s about five minutes until eight,” Spencer offered, “you aren’t late yet.”

“No, but I’m not early,” Anna replied, “which means that I’m late, damn you Dean, to the coldest circle of hell.” She hurried across the room and up the stairs.

Derek watched her as Hotch opened the door and let her in while J.J. left, then he stood deliberately, “I think that I’m going to go say hi to Garcia,” he said calmly as he headed for the doors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ring Tone: "Can't Take Me" from the Spirit: Wild Stallion of the Cimmaron Soundtrack  
> References:  
> SPN: Pilot  
> CM: None


	2. Away we go!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna and the team prep for their first case.

Derek was almost to Garcia’s work station when she popped out the door, “Derek,” she said, “there you are, Hotchner called, we need to be at the briefing room.”

Derek spun and followed her back through the building to where everyone was gathering.  “Morgan, Garcia,” Hotchner said as they came in.

“Hotch,” Derek replied, sliding into the seat between Reid and Campbell.

“Everyone, this is Special Agent Anna Campbell, our occult specialist,” Hotchner said resting a hand on Anna’s shoulder briefly.  “I’m told she also has a Bachelors in criminal psychology.”

Anna glanced around the table with a slight smile before turning to J.J., who was standing up with a stack of folders to pass around.  She looked up just as he did and smiled at him, before turning away to get something off the floor on the other side of her.  “Three weeks ago,” J.J. said, “Michael Gehrig went missing in Layson, Missouri.  He was found three days later.  Then, Tyler Marks went missing, his body was also found a few days later.  Finally we have Kyle Shovess, he was found yesterday.”

“What are the marks on their bodies?”  Reid asked, studying one of the pictures.

Campbell slid a pair of glasses on and picked up one of the pictures with a frown, “They’re runes,” she said finally, picking up a second picture, “they look familiar, but I can’t place them.  They aren’t too clear either.  I’d have to see them without all the blood.”  She glanced up at Reid, and then Hotchner.  Derek noted that her face seemed utterly calm, as if she’d seen worse, her fingers trembled slightly as she tucked the photos back in the folder.

“Take it with you,” Hotchner said, “wheels up in an hour.”

Campbell nodded and reached beside her to pick up a back pack and sling it over her shoulder easily.  “Hey, Campbell,” Derek said, when she looked at him he smiled, “Welcome to the BAU.”

“Thanks,” Campbell replied, “although if you could find it in your heart to call me Anna, I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Derek replied, “I’m Derek Morgan.”

Campbell followed him from the conference room, “How are we getting to Missouri anyways?”

“The BAU has a private plane,” Derek said.

“A plane?”  Anna said, her voice shaking.  “Wait, no one said _anything_ about a plane.”

Derek turned, took in the look of sheer terror on her face, and sighed, “It’s the fastest way to get there, Anna.”

“I don’t fly,” Anna replied, shaking her head, “I can’t.  A plane,” she made a mewling noise as her breathe began to come faster and faster.

“Anna,” Derek said sharply, he stepped closer and put his hand on her shoulder, “Calm down.”

Hotchner stepped out of his office, “Is everything all right, Morgan?”  He asked.

“Nobody said anything about a plane,” Derek said, “and apparently she’s afraid of them.”

Hotchner walked over and studied Anna for a moment, but the girl was so lost in her panic attack that she didn’t notice.  At least, not until Hotchner slapped her once, hard.  Anna gasped and looked up, “What?”  She said.

“You were becoming hysterical,” Hotchner told her calmly.

“Sorry,” Anna said.  She took a deep breath and pushed her hair out of her face.  “I’ll just, go get that book.”

“What was that about?”  J.J. asked as she came out of her office.

“Apparently,” Hotchner said, “Agent Campbell is afraid of flying.”

“This is going to be an interesting case, then,” J.J. replied.

Derek sighed and headed down to get ready to go, but as he stepped out into the parking lot, he became aware of some creative swearing, “You impotent pus bucket of maggots!”  He glanced around and spotted Anna glaring at a large, old fashioned SUV.  “May you rust in the sea for a thousand years!”

Curious, Derek walked over to see what was wrong, but as he rounded the sedan she’d parked beside, he immediately saw the problem; she had a flat tire.  “Need some help,” Derek offered.

Anna spun, startled, “Um, I,” she huffed a breath out and shook her head, “Not unless you can conjure me a spare tire, sir.”  She kicked the flat tire desolately.

“You don’t have a spare?”  Derek asked, surprised.

“That is my spare,” Anna replied dryly.  “I had to change out a flat this morning already.”

“I could give you a ride,” Derek offered, “I mean, it’s not like we’re all going to a different location.”

Anna smiled, “Thank you, Agent Morgan.  I appreciate that.”  She moved around to the back end of the SUV and unlocked it, “I just need to grab some things,” she added.

Derek nodded, “So, why the BAU?”

“What?”  Anna asked, then muttered something under her breath that sounded a lot like, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d strip you down and search for hex bags.”

“Why did you choose the BAU?”  Derek said, leaning against her SUV, trying very hard not to turn his head and actually look into the back end as another thump shook the car.

A heavy box hit the ground, “Well,” Anna said as she opened it, “when I was fifteen, we lived in Asher Falls, Colorado for six months.  There was a serial killer up there at the time who liked young boys.  The BAU was pretty much in its infancy back then, but they sent out these two guys, Agent David Rossi and Agent Henry Turner.  When that bastard grabbed Sammy while Dad was away on business, I would go by the police station every day after school.  I spent hours watching Rossi and Turner figure the bastard out.  They got Sam back five days after he vanished because of Rossi and Turner’s work.”  She shut the box up and shoved it back in the truck.  “After that, all I ever wanted to be was a profiler like Rossi.  I don’t have the book with me, which means it’s in one of the trunks at Uncle Bobby’s place.”  She sighed.

“Then why have you studied the occult?”  Derek asked.

“Didn’t study it so much as grew up with it,” Anna replied as she shut the SUV.  “I’m a practicing Wiccan, Morgan, and a Huntress.”

“What does that mean?”  Derek asked.

Anna came around the side of the SUV carrying not only her backpack, but also a duffle bag and a rolling suitcase.  She smiled at him, “It just means that I hunt monsters, the biggest differences between me and a paranoid schizophrenic with a religious complex?  One is that I know that there is a seventy-eight percent chance that the creatures I study about aren’t real, even if I do know how to kill them.  Where is your car?”

“What?”  Derek said, startled and not quite sure where the random question had come from.

“Your car,” Anna said, “Where is it?  If I have to ride the flying death trap, I’d like to do it right now, before I start thinking about it again.”

“Right, it’s over here,” Derek said, heading for his car.

“The other big reason I’m different,” Anna said as she walked beside him, “well, I don’t suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder, in my mind, the more the merrier.”

Derek actually walked into his car because he was too busy staring at her in shock.  “Ok,” he said, and unlocked the trunk.  “Let’s put your stuff in the trunk.”  Anna collapsed the handle on her suitcase and started to lift it with a grunt.  “Let me,” Derek offered, and Anna shrugged and let go with a soft smile.

Derek grabbed the handle and pulled, only to grunt, “Jesus,” he said, using his other hand to steady the suitcase, “What did you pack, bricks?”

“Nope,” Anna replied as she slung her duffle into the trunk, “Reference books.  I’m not Sam, to have tons of knowledge about the occult packed away in my mind.  Instead, I memorized the basics and I know which books are going to help me with the details.”  She stopped and opened her duffle and rifled through it a minute.  “Brigit’s corset,” she muttered, “I forgot the salt I’ll be right back.”

Derek watched her run back across the parking lot to her truck wondering if they really needed an occult specialist like her.  Then he shook his head and shut the trunk, she could put whatever it was in her bag at the airport.  As he unlocked the doors and started to get in, she came back, sliding into the passenger seat easily.  In her hands was a standard size container of table salt.  “Salt,” Derek said, “seriously?”

Anna grinned at him, “If we’re ever attacked by ghosts or demons, you’ll be thanking me.  Not to mention the cold iron in the bottom of my duffle.”  She pulled out her cell phone, “I’m going to call my uncle and see if I get him to send me the book I need.”

Derek raised an eyebrow at her, but pulled out of the parking lot.  “Hi, Uncle Bobby, it’s Anna,” she said cheerfully.  “Yes sir, everything’s fine with the loft.”  She waved her hand as she listened into the phone.  “I was wondering if you could do me a favor, actually.  I’m on my first case and I left the book I need in the blue trunk in your basement.  It’s the spiral with the moon and dolphins on it, filled with ritual symbols and notes.”  Another pause and she huffed out a breath of air, “How was I to know I’d get dragged onto an occult case before we could get everything shipped?  Look, I’ll pay you back if you could message it to the police department in Layson, Missouri.”  Anna heaved an exceptionally put upon sigh, “No, Bobby, you don’t have to send the boys…yes Bobby, I’m sure I can handle this…No Bobby, you don’t have to drive it over yourself, I know you have work to do…Just send it via FedEx if you have to…If it’s more than I can handle, I’ll call you, ok, or if I have any questions…I promise Bobby.  Look, just keep up your end of the deal and I’ll call you if I even _think_ I won’t be able to handle something.”  She was quiet for a long time, “All right Bobby, I’ll let you know what I can, when I can.  I love you.”

Derek refrained from saying anything as she looked at her phone.  Finally, she sighed and slipped it into the front of her backpack.  “Sorry,” Anna said, “I’m really nervous about doing this right.  I don’t mean to come off like a crazy person.”

“It’s ok,” Derek replied.  “We were all new at this once upon a time.”

Anna wrapped her arms over her stomach as she stared out the window, “I have to do this right,” she said softly, Derek had to strain to hear her, “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Winchester won't actually be making an appearance in this story, although I think Bobby is going to actually show up. He keeps popping up in my notes.


	3. Chapter 3

They arrived at the airport in silence, Derek unsure what to say after Anna’s quiet confession and Anna willing to just stare out the window and not talk.  When they got out of the car and Anna spotted the rest of their team, she smiled, “Thanks for the ride, Agent Morgan,” she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.  “I can’t believe the Beast got another flat like that.”

“It’s not a problem,” Derek replied as he popped the trunk.  “But you can call me Derek you know.”

 

Anna shrugged, “I was taught to respect my elders and such, sir.  Give me some time to get used to you.”  She hauled out the suitcase and her duffle easily.  The  duffle she slung over her shoulder and the suitcase she pulled behind her as she followed him across the lot.

 

“Is everything all right?”  Hotchner asked them.

 

“My truck had a flat,” Anna replied, “Agent Morgan offered me a ride.”

 

“What’s in the suitcase,” Gideon asked, “we’re supposed to travel light.”

 

“Books, sir,” Anna said.  “I don’t know what I’m going to need to know, so I’m bringing some of my books with me.  These are some of the best occult reference books I have in my collection.  They aren’t the type of books you can go to the local Barnes and Nobles and get off the shelf either.  You have to either hunt them down on-line or visit specialty bookstores to get them and they generally run between fifty to a thousand dollars depending on how old and how rare they are.”  She sighed, “None of these are expensive, but they’re good references and if they can’t answer my questions, they can point me in the right direction.”

 

“Let’s go then,” J.J. suggested.

 

They headed through the terminal to the private gate where the team’s gulfstream awaited them.  Anna’s steps slowed as the plane came in sight, as her breathing sped up.  Derek glanced back at her, but Elle spoke up first.  “Hey, I’m Elle,” Elle said, dropping back to walk beside her.  “Why are you so focused on the symbols on the victims?”

 

“In some rituals,” Anna said, “victomology doesn’t matter; any schmuck off the streets can be used.  In others, it can be very important.  For instance, there’s one to summon the first demon, Lilith, which requires two children.  The first is a boy who must be drained of blood; it’s used to paint the symbols and seals that invoke her.  The second is a girl, placed in the center of the ritual to serve as the host for Lilith.  If this is the second type of ritual, then we’ll know what type of person the killer is looking for, and even what he thinks he’s trying to accomplish.”

 

Derek glanced back at Anna, and noticed that she was boarding the plane with little sign of her earlier nervousness.  “What do you think he’s trying to accomplish?”  Elle asked.

 

“Probably a summoning ritual,” Anna replied, and glanced around, as if surprised to find herself on the plane already.  “I’d say whoever it is wants a God or Goddess as opposed to, say, a demon.  Demons need bodies to posses, and that works better if their victim is still alive when they show up.  I’ll know for certain when I can track down what those symbols mean.  Depending on what their base is, they can tell a lot about the killer to.  Some rituals are religious based, or have a link to a specific culture, and knowing that makes it easier to know where to look for the killer.”  She frowned, “Can I look at those images again, please?”

Gideon passed her a case file and she opened it, finding the image she wanted as she sat down on the couch, “There,” she said, “whatever  that seal is,” she held it up to Elle.  The image showed the victim was lying on a symbol on the ground, “That’s the seal that’s going to tell us what ritual this is.”  She blushed, “I’m sorry,” she said, “I guess I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”  She brushed some of her hair from her face, “I guess I’m more nervous than I thought I would be about this.”

 

“They could have removed the ropes after the ritual was complete,” Derek pointed out.

 

Anna hummed, but didn’t look up.  The plane began to move and she flinched, eyes focused on the pictures from the crime scenes even as her breathing began to speed up.

 

“This is a mission oriented killer,” Reid said, “isn’t it?”

 

“There’s no sign of a sexual component,” Derek agreed.

 

“That means he’s not going to stop, right?”  Elle asked.

 

Derek opened his mouth to respond, but a loud thud made him look back at Anna.  She lay on the floor of the plane, case file scattered around her, eyes closed.   “Anna?”  Derek said, aware from the angle of the floor that the plane was taking off.

 

“I think she just fainted,” Reid observed as Hotchner slid out of his chair to kneel by the young woman.

 

“Reid’s right,” Hotchner said finally, looking at the rest of the team, “she’s unconscious.”  Carefully, he put her back on the couch and put the file back together before claiming his seat.

 

“She did say she was afraid of flying,” Derek commented.

 

“She’ll have to learn to deal with it,” Gideon replied.  “This unsub is sadistic, though.  He’s cutting these symbols while his targets are still alive.”

 

“But with the lack of a sexual component,” Reid began.

 

“That just means he’s not a sexual sadist,” Derek replied.  For nearly an hour, they talked about the case, ignoring the ritual aspects that their newest Agent and focused on.

 

Reid was sharing some statistics on ritual murders when Anna groaned and sat up, “What happened?”  She asked.

 

“You fainted,” Gideon replied from where he sat across from her, “are you feeling ok?”

 

“Yeah,” Anna said, rubbing her forehead, “I  fainted?”

 

“Yes,” Gideon said.

 

Anna’s laugh was forced, as was her attempt at levity, “All the things I’ve been through and I  fainted because of a plane.  Dean will never let me live this down.”

 

“Fear is natural,” Gideon replied, “but you’re going to have to get a handle on it before it prevents you from doing your job.”

 

“I’ll work on it, sir,” Anna said, looking away.  After a few minutes of silence, she took a book from her backpack and began to read.


	4. Crime Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good news is, I've figured out what kind of 'voice' Anna should have. The bad news is, I've upped the ratings because of it. It only took me four chapters to get the voice...sorry.

Hotchner sent Anna with Derek to the last crime scene; a back lot outside a club.  Anna sent her books with the group headed for the station, but brought her backpack with her.  She had been silent for most of the plane ride, simply listening as they’d discussed the case.  Derek had kept an eye on her in case something else happened, and noticed that sometimes her fingers twitched like she was writing something and he wondered if she had wanted to take notes.

  
The parking lot was still taped off, but the body had been removed, leaving behind the bloody stain and the symbol that had so intrigued Anna.  “Satanists,” their police escort spat.

 

  
“Actually,” Anna said, “this isn’t the work of a Satanist.  There’s no Dark Alter, no inverted cross.”  She produced a camera from her backpack and gestured to the symbol, “This is Pagan, actually.”

 

  
“There’s a difference?”  The cop said.

 

  
“Yes,” Anna said, “a true Satanist tends to be focused, if not obsessed, with Lucifer, the Pit, demons and things of that nature.  Some of them even  want to be possessed.  What you are thinking of, I call Satanic ‘Light’ because most of them don’t believe that what they’re doing has a result.  They just like to dress in black, smoke pot, drink beer and play loud rock music.  The Satanic ‘Light’ cult may reference blood, human sacrifice and what have you, but most of them don’t have the guts to do it.  A true Satanist doesn’t think twice.”  She snapped a picture, “There are less than fifty true Satanists on the North American continent, to the best of my knowledge.  Twenty of them are already doing time for murder.  Five of them have a commune in Colorado, and the others are living normal lives.  You wouldn’t know to walk past them that on certain nights, like All Hallows, they get together and hold Black Mass and wait for instructions on how to set Lucifer free.”

 

  
Anna knelt and pointed at one of the clear portions, “Those are Pagan symbols.  It’s not Witchcraft and it isn’t Satanic.  These men were chosen as sacrifices to  give power to an old deity.  I don’t know which one, or what ritual, though.  I’d bet dollars to donuts that it’s lunar based, and the unsub isn’t done yet.”

  
“Wait, you said they want to set Lucifer free,” Derek said.

 

  
Anna nodded as she snapped another picture, “They do,” she said.  “I researched it years ago after,” she paused, swallowing, “after I realized how badly my dad had been affected by my mom’s death.  He believes a demon killed her,” she flicked a glance over at Derek, “and he’s been hunting ‘it’ ever since.  Most demons are confined to Hell, according to the lore, some get out every year and posses people, but others are waiting for one of the gates to be opened to they can escape.  When that happens, a deal will be made and, quote unquote, ‘The Righteous Man’ will sell his soul.  When his time runs out and he goes to Hell, he’ll spill the blood of an innocent, breaking the First Seal.  There are over six hundred Seals keeping Lucifer in his cage, they are also holding back the strongest of the Demons.  When the First is broken, the demons have to break sixty-five more.  When the Sixty-Six Seals are broken, Lucifer will walk the Earth and it will be the Apocalypse.”

 

  
Anna stood and began to circle the symbol, “Your dad,” Derek began.

 

  
“Is not the unsub and therefore not open to discussion,” Anna replied, glancing at him.  Her green eyes darkened and her genial nature faded to show him the steel underneath.  Then she smiled, “Sorry, my dad and I,” she looked back down and trailed of, kneeling.  “Morgan, look at this.”

 

  
Morgan walked over and knelt beside her, staring at the white granules that formed a curved line, just thick enough to see, but thin enough that he would have overlooked it.  “What is it?”  The officer asked, coming over to look.

 

  
Anna pointed, “Do you know, was there a ring of salt around the body when it was found?”

 

  
“To the best of my knowledge, no,” the officer replied.

 

  
Anna stared at the faded line, biting her lip.  Then she stood and pulled a small notebook from her back pocket and a pen from her front pocket and she began to write.  “What?”  Derek asked.

 

  
“Someone put down a salt line,” Anna said, “and it was broken.  I don’t know if that’s relevant, but if the unsub did it, he might be a little more unhinged than I thought.  Salt is used to ward off demons and spirits, among other things.  It represents purity.”

 

  
Derek glanced down at her paper and frowned, “What language is that?”

 

  
Anna flicked a glance up at him, “It’s Monday,” she said, “on Mondays I practice Sanskrit.”  She sounded like it was the most normal thing in the world.  “If the salt line wasn’t made by the unsub, then someone had reason to believe there was something, probably a spirit, after them.”  Her cell phone went off again, the same ringtone as before.  “Excuse me,” she said, and answered the phone, “Let me guess,” she said, stepping away, “Dean’s finally found the proof that you were switched at birth and you’re really Sasquatch, right?”

 

  
“She’s,” the officer began, then faltered as Derrick gave him a hard look.

 

  
“Agent Campbell,” Derek said, “is an occult specialist, as such; she has a unique insight into these cases.”

 

  
Anna wandered back over, “Ok,” she said, “we don’t have to worry about the salt.  That’s related to something else.”

  
“Something else,” the officer repeated.

 

  
“Ever hear about the Legend of Sal’s Diner?”  Anna asked.

 

  
“Of course,” the officer said, “I used to go there after baseball games when I was a kid.  People said it was built on hallowed ground that every business ever built there would fail because the spirits would object.  It burned down when I was eighteen, killed six adults and three kids.”

 

  
“Before the diner, it was an empty field,” Anna said with a nod, “back in the twenties, it was a speakeasy that the cops burned down, killing everyone inside.  Keep going back, you’ll find a different business was put up, and every twenty years, if there was a business, it burned down.  Usually with everyone inside killed.”  She sighed, “Someone tried to stop it, no names for the Fed, but I would bet that if we looked, about three weeks ago, someone reported a grave desecration at the local cemetery.  In the old plots, from back when this was just a little cow town with more people on Boot Hill than lived in the buildings.”

 

  
“How did you know that?”  The officer said, “I was the first responder for that.”

 

  
“Salt and burn,” Anna replied, “someone deluded themselves into believing that it was a ghost that attacked on cycle.  Salt the bones and burn them and no more ghost.”  She grinned at Derek, “The fun part is digging up the grave.”

 

  
“You’ve,” Derek began.

 

  
Anna waggled her finger at him, “I neither confirm nor deny,” She said with a grin, “and my juvie records were sealed, so don’t ask that tech chick, Garcia, right?  Her, don’t ask her to look it up.”  She glanced at her watch and hissed, “Is there somewhere I can get a bottle of water around here?”

 

  
“There’s a gas station on the corner,” the officer began.

 

  
“You shouldn’t go anywhere alone,” Derek cut him off.

 

  
Anna crossed her arms, “Derek, I just need a bottle of water.”

 

  
“You can wait until we get to the station,” Derek replied.

 

  
“No, I can’t,” Anna said.

 

  
“Why, are you taking medicine?”  Derek retorted.

 

  
“That’s between my doctor and me.  Now, you can let me go get a drink from the corner and I’ll leave you alone to look at the crime scene,  or I’ll stand here and I will talk.  A lot.  And I’ll ask questions.  There is no way you’ll be able to concentrate.  You’d have to gag and handcuff me, and even then I’ll hum, and I’m tone deaf.  If it makes you feel better, I know that you can see the gas station from the squad car, perhaps Officer Mitchell would consent to stand by the car and keep an eye on me while letting me have the privacy I, as a citizen of America, have the right to request.”  Anna stepped into Derek’s space, green eyes locked in on his, “I can make your life miserable, Agent Morgan, with very little effort.  Is that worth a bottle of water?”

 

  
Derek stared back, unable to look away, even though he knew, he  knew Hotch would skin him if he let Anna wander off alone.  The look he’d gotten when Hotch sent her to the crime scene with him had been distinctly clear on that factor.  Still, he’d come here to see if he could find the clues to stop a killer.  “Officer Mitchell,” he said, stepping back and looking away, “do you mind keeping an eye on her?”

 

  
“Sure,” Mitchell replied, confused.

  
Anna chuckled, “Don’t mind Agent Morgan,” she said, “he’s afraid Agent Hotchner will cut his balls off if something happens to me because I’m the newest agent to the team.”  She strolled away, humming loudly, and very off-key.


	5. Uncle Bobby

Morgan couldn't help but sigh as Anna followed Elle over to one of the white boards, "Everything all right?" Reid asked as he sat down beside Morgan.

"Its fine," Morgan replied quietly.

"How did Anna do at the crime scene?" Reid asked.

"It was strange," Morgan said, "but she's got a quick mind. She'll be a good agent with some seasoning."

"You think so," Reid asked, looking over at Anna.

"I know so," Morgan said, "She's smart, has a good eye and she listens. Those are rare qualities in a rookie. I don't think she'll scare easily either, but we'll have to see how she does under pressure."

"That's good," Hotch said as he came up behind them, "what else can you tell me about her?"

Morgan winced slightly, but nodded, "Anna's unique. She's self confidant, strong and certain of her beliefs and she won't hesitate to share them with someone." He glanced over to watch Anna at the white board for a moment, "She's a good agent for a rookie, and will be even better when she's seasoned. In her field, she knows what she's talking about, and outside of it, she's not afraid to ask." He turned away to look at Hotch, "There's something," he thought of how quick she'd shut him down on her father, "I'm not sure what it is, but she's hiding something, something big."

Hotch looked over at Anna, his mouth tightening, "Morgan, I want you to keep an eye on her. Don't let her go off by herself. I'm sorry to ask it of you, but she seems to like you."

Morgan nodded, "Don't worry about it, Hotch."

"Excuse me, Agent Hotchner," one of the officers said nervously.

"Yes?" Hotch asked, turning towards him.

"There's a man here looking for an Agent Campbell," the officer said, "he says his name is Bobby and he brought her something."

"Bobby?" Anna said, her tone a mix of happiness and exasperation, "I told him he didn't have to drive it over." She left the white boards to join them.

"What?" Hotch asked.

Anna blinked and glanced up at him, "A couple of books. Uncle Bobby's storing some of my things until I can get them shipped to my new apartment. I didn't have the ones I wanted to research this ritual with me, but I knew they were with Uncle Bobby. I asked him to messenger them to me here. Where is he?"

"At the front desk," the officer began.

Anna waved her hand slightly as she brushed past him, Morgan glanced at Hotch and followed. "Uncle Bobby!" Anna said with delight, as she hugged an older man standing near the doors.

Morgan gave him a long look, "Uncle Bobby" was about six foot tall, with a baseball cap obscuring most of his salt'n'pepper hair, a grizzled face that wasn't handsome, but certainly wasn't ugly. He was dressed in work boots, jeans and a flannel shirt, all of which had seen better days. "Anna," Bobby said as Anna stepped back, "You're an idjit, you know that?"

Anna laughed, "Maybe I am, but you still didn't have to drive these books over."

"And miss the chance to see you? Never. How's John's boys, have you spoken to them?" Bobby said.

"I don't know what all I can say," Anna said. She glanced around and spotted Morgan, she jerked her head slightly. "But, Bobby, this is Derek Morgan, he's part of the BAU. Agent Morgan, this is Bobby Singer."

"Mr. Singer," Morgan said, offering his hand.

"Agent Morgan," Bobby replied, shaking it once, firmly, his gruff smile faded as he clenched Morgan's hand. "I never had a daughter," he said quietly, "my wife was murdered a long time ago. Anna here, she's like the daughter I never had. You make sure she doesn't get hurt."

"Bobby!" Anna snapped. Morgan glanced over at her as Bobby let go of his hand. "Of all the male…chauvinistic…you asshole! Just because I'm not a boy doesn't mean I'm helpless. I've done my fair share of hunting, solo and team. Hell, I soloed on a hunt long before Dean ever did and you know it."

"Patched you up afterwards too," Bobby replied.

"Oh, like you didn't have to sew Dad or Dean or even Sammy up after a hunt," Anna retorted.

"That isn't the point," Bobby said.

"Then what is," Anna asked softly, her anger vanishing when Bobby gave her a look.

"These," Bobby said, and bent over to pick up a cardboard box, "your books."

Anna smiled, "Thanks again, Bobby." She pulled a slim wallet from her back pocket and opened it, "What do I owe you for gas?"

"Nothing this time," Bobby replied. "Next time, I'll charge you double. Now take this box, its heavy."

Anna shoved her wallet in her pocket and took the box, "I'll call you, Bobby."

"Call me every night," Bobby replied, "let me know you're alive."

"I will," Anna replied.

Bobby tugged his hat lower down on his forehead and walked out of the police station, hunched slightly, "Well," Morgan began.

"That was Bobby," Anna said with a bright smile, "he has a salvage yard and he studies the occult. If I don't know the answer, Bobby does." She shifted the box and headed back into the conference room that had been given to the team. "I'm not a feminist," she added as she slid the box on the table, "I don't want to be compared to anyone else, or to be considered 'better' or 'equal'." She turned and gave him a long look, her green eyes thoughtful, "I just want to have people acknowledge my own skills and abilities for what _they_ are, not in comparison to everyone else."

"What is this?" Reid asked, looking at the box.

"My books," Anna said and pulled the lid open, and gasped.

"What?" Morgan asked.

Anna lifted a large, old book from the box, "Sweet Morrigan," she whispered, and flipped the book open. "It's a copy of the Lesser Key," she said reverently, "I've always wanted a copy. It's considered one of the leading resources for demon summoning and banishment."

"It's a what," Reid asked.

Anna looked up and closed the book, "The Lesser Key of King Solomon is a grimoire that was written in the seventeenth century about summoning and banishing demons from Hell. In occult circles, it's considered one of the best grimoires ever written on the subject. It's hard to find copies of it, by that I mean complete and unabridged, with all the seals, sigils and chants." She set it down carefully on the table, "It's not one of mine though," she looked in the box, "but the rest of this is. He couldn't possibly have meant to give this to me."

"Give you what?" Hotchner asked as he came up to the table with a cup of coffee.

Anna snatched the book off the table and held it away from the coffee, "This is a very old, rather valuable book," she said quietly, "the kind of book I'd give my eyeteeth to own. I never thought I'd see a copy like this."

"What makes it so special," Morgan asked.

"It's written in Latin," Anna said, "not translated, among other things." Cradling the book one handed, she pulled a notebook and two other books from the box, then slipped the Lesser Key back into the box and put the lid on it. "Sorry, I was startled to find that book." She sat down, picked up the spiral and began to page through it.

Derek glanced at Hotch and Reid, knowing they were thinking the same thing he was; _Who was the real Anna Campbell, and why was she hiding?_


	6. Pie High

Morgan stopped by Anna's hotel room and knocked on the door, "Good morning, Agent Morgan." An amused voice said behind him.

Morgan turned to find Anna standing behind him, she was dressed in workout clothes with a bag over her shoulder, "You know," he said with a slight smile, "I believe I said you could call me Derek, Agent Campbell."

Anna smiled at him, "My daddy taught me to respect my elders, Agent Morgan." She shifted her bag, "Do I have time to shower before we have to get back to work?"

"Sure," Morgan replied, "and I'm not that much older than you are." He stepped away from her door.

Anna pulled out her key card and unlocked the door, "Oh, you may not be 'that much older'," her tone was slightly mocking, "but you are a senior agent." She pushed the door open, "And that makes you an elder." She let the door shut behind her.

Morgan stared at her door for a moment and shook his head in amusement. "Morning Morgan," Spencer said as he came out of his room.

"Good morning Spencer," Morgan replied.

"Is Anna up?" Spencer asked.

"I think she was working out," Morgan said, "she just came back to her room."

"Good morning Derek, Spencer," Elle said as she came out of her room. "Where's Anna?"

"Taking a shower," Morgan replied dryly.

"And how do you know that?" Elle asked slyly.

"That's what she said," Morgan said. He froze as his words registered, he closed his eyes as Elle began to laugh.

"What?" Spencer asked.

Morgan smiled, "It's a dirty joke, Spence," he said, "not that I meant it to be a joke, mind you, it was an inadvertent joke."

"I don't understand," Spencer said, "how is 'that's what she said' a joke?"

"Derek what have you been telling him?" J.J. demanded as she joined their group.

"It was an accident," Morgan protested, "I didn't mean for it to come out as a joke."

"I think I need to hear this from the beginning," J.J. said, looking at each of them for a long moment.

"Anna's taking a shower," Morgan replied, "Elle asked me where she was, I said 'in the shower' she asked how I knew, and I said, 'That's what she said.'"

Elle started laughing again as Morgan flinched under J.J.'s scrutiny. Finally, J.J. took Spencer's arm and steered him down the hall talking quietly, perhaps explaining the joke. "I needed that," Elle said, straightening up. "I can't believe you said that."

Morgan glared at her for a moment, "Would you stop," he said, "please. It's no big deal."

"Good morning," Hotch said as he stepped out of his room, Morgan turned and found Gideon in the hall behind him.

"Morning Hotch, morning Gideon," Morgan said.

"Good morning," Elle added.

Anna's door opened and she stepped out, "Oh, wow," she said looking around, "did I miss something?"

Morgan glanced at the young woman and smiled, "No, you didn't. Are you ready for breakfast?"

Anna glanced down at her dark green blouse and gray pants, and back up, "I'm starving, where are we going to eat? Do you think they'll have pie?"

Morgan blinked at her sudden bursts of questions, during which she grabbed her bag from inside her door. "Restaurant in the parking lot," Gideon said, "and I don't think they serve pie for breakfast."

"Oh," Anna said as she slung her bag over her shoulder, "There's a diner down the road that serves pie. It's really good to, I could really go for some pie right now."

"How do you know there's a diner that serves pie here?" Hotch asked as they started for the elevator.

"Because the coffee here is crap," Anna replied, "and I always have at least one cup before my workout. They have four kinds of pie including apple and mixed berry. I had apple and the mixed berry, but right now I want blueberry. That way I can text Dean, wake him up and brag about have three slices of pie before he's even had his coffee."

"Anna," Hotch said as the elevator door slid open, "I would rather you told someone when you were leaving the hotel."

Anna's somewhat cheerful and hyper façade vanished mere seconds after the door slid closed and she spun on Hotch with some of the same temper she'd revealed towards Morgan the day before. "I wasn't aware I had to ask permission," she said tartly. Giving Morgan a sharp glance, she added, "Besides, it's not like I'm helpless here, Agent Hotchner. I can take care of myself a lot better than you seem to think."

"I'm sure that's so," Hotch replied, "but that rule applies to everyone on my team, not just you."

"Oh," Anna took a step back, "Ok, house rules, not _me_ rules." She hitched her backpack up on her shoulder, "I'm sorry. My dad was an overprotective son of a bitch when it came to his only daughter and he taught me to take care of myself. He also tried to 'protect me'." Morgan glanced down to hide his smile at her air quotes. "By the time I was twelve I'd had a gut full of designer rules. I reacted poorly and I apologize."

The elevator opened and Anna stepped out, spinning purposely and speed walking across the lobby. Elle walked quickly to keep up with her but Morgan stayed with Gideon and Hotchner. "She's an interesting personality," Gideon offered once the lobby doors closed.

"I like her," Morgan replied idly, "she's got spirit."

They were quiet as they crossed the parking lot to the restaurant, where J.J., Spencer, Elle and Anna had pushed tables together. When they got close enough, Anna looked up at Morgan with a bright smile, "They have pie, for breakfast! Dean's going to be pissed." Her smile was so gleeful that Morgan found that he was smiling back before he even thought about it.

"So, Anna," Elle said as they perused the menus, "do you have any favorite sports teams?"

"Not really," Anna replied, "I mean, I grew up around 'manly men', so I've watched football, but I've never been a fan of senseless violence." She picked up her menu and studied for a moment, "Or committees for that matter."

"What?" Hotch asked, his voice filled with surprise and disbelief.

"I don't know who said it," Anna said, staring at her menu like it held all the answers, "But it is said that American Football is a combination of the two worst facets of American culture: violence and committee meetings. Besides you can't see asses or faces in those uniforms, how do you know who the cute guys are so you can cheer them on?"


	7. New Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On my honor, Anna had nothing to do with the sudden rash of arson in Layson. She just couldn't sleep and got up early to eat pie. Also, I know that my calander leaves a lot to be desired in terms of RL accuracy. This is an Alternate Universe, and the full moon is when I say there's a full moon, so there! Oh, and Anna says bad words.

They arrived at the police station and found a hive of activity, Hotch stopped one of the officers, "What's going on?" He asked.

"You need to speak to Detective Bower," the man said, "over there." He pointed to one of the knots of people.

Derek glanced over at Anna, who was watching the different groups as if fascinated at the buzz of activity. "Ah, Agent Hotchner," Detective Bower said, "I was just about to call you. We may have another body."

"All this for a body," Anna mused.

Bower shot her a long look, then turned back to Hotch, "Things went crazy around here about half an hour ago. First, we get a call from one of the local cemeteries. Someone was committing grave desecration last night. Two graves were dug up and burned. Then we were told about an abandon house going up in flames. Then we found the body. The officer on scene said that there were similar markings to the other bodies."

"Morgan, Spencer, Campbell," Hotchner said, "go to the scene and see what you can find out."

"Right," Derek said, he glanced at Spencer who nodded.

Anna was looking at Det. Bower, her head tilted, "Do you have those fires often?" She asked. "The ones at the grave site?"

"Third time this year," Det. Bower replied.

"Campbell," Hotchner said, "now is not the time."

"Right," Anna said, she smiled brightly at him.

"Here is the address and directions," Bower said, accepting paper form one of the officers around him.

"Thank you," Derek said. He pointedly hooked a hand over Anna's elbow, "let's go."

Anna walked beside him obediently, but as soon as they were outside the precinct she pulled away from him pointedly, "Something's going on," she said.

"What do you mean?" Derek asked.

"Three salt'n'burns?" Anna replied, "That doesn't happen without a serious problem. Something that big, people would talk. I would have been warned when I called Bobby. Hell, Sam and Dean would have been on my ass."

"What are you thinking," Derek asked.

"Someone thinks they've got a ghost problem," Anna said, "and they don't know enough to figure out who the ghost is." She sighed as they approached the SUV, "I hate amateurs."

"Is there such a thing as a professional ghost hunter?" Reid asked.

"Shotgun," Anna called as she opened the passenger side door, "and I plead the fifth, Doctor Reid."

"Why would you plead the fifth?" Reid said, sliding into the backseat, "There is no such thing as ghosts. There is no scientific proof, no recordings, and no definitive research."

Anna scoffed loudly as she fastened her seatbelt, "Just because it hasn't been printed in a magazine doesn't mean there's no proof, Doctor. Mainstream science doesn't want to admit that there are things that can't be quantified and explained and are willing to ridicule anyone who might challenge that."

"Name one thing that science denies but is real," Derek said.

"One," Anna said, "let me think. I want a good one." She stared out the window as they pulled out.

"Um," Reid said, "how did I wind up in the backseat?"

Anna snorted, "I called shotgun," she said, "and then I kept talking and moving so that you didn't have a chance to object." Her tone was smug, "I used to pull that over on Dean all the time when we were kids."

"Was that something that happened often?" Derek asked.

"We moved a lot," Anna said, "sometimes, we'd spend days on the road. We always made Sammy ride in back and then we'd fight over the front seat. At least, we did until Sam hit his growth spurt. After that, making him ride in the back was just mean."

"Why?" Reid asked.

"Sam is six foot, five inches," Anna replied, "and we grew up in a sixty-seven Chevy Impala. There wasn't much of a backseat. When we were fifteen, Bobby got the Beast from a ten car pileup. I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. Dad would sometimes help me, but Bobby and I did most of the work. I've been driving her since I was seventeen."

"You are talking about your SUV, aren't you?" Derek asked.

"That's my girl," Anna agreed.

"She has an interesting paint job," Derek agreed.

"It's custom," Anna replied. "Do you want me to navigate, Agent Morgan?"

"Only if you drop the 'agent'," Derek replied, handing over the directions.

"I'll try," Anna replied. Derek glanced in the rear mirror to see Reid watching them, his lips pressed together. "So, what do we know about this body," Anna asked, "is it fresh?"

"No," Reid said looking at a folder he'd brought with them. "He's a hermit, and every month a local grocery store brings by a standing order. The delivery man has a key to his house, but says the back door was forced open when he got there. The hermit has been dead for a while."

"Lovely," Anna murmured, "I love the smell of corpses in the morning. Turn right up ahead." She glanced out the window, "I'm worried about these fires, Morgan. There's something wrong." She dug her cell phone from her pocket. "I love cell phones," she said.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked.

"I'm sending Sam a text, he can look on the internet to see what he can find out. If it's pertinent, I'll pass it back to the cops." Anna glanced at Derek, "Sam's one of the best researchers I've ever known. _I'm_ good, but Sam is better. It's part of the reason that he got through pre-Law like he did."

"Your brother is pre-Law?" Reid asked.

"Yup," Anna replied, "full ride to Stanford. He probably would have gotten the same for Law if he hadn't of missed his interview."

"Why did he miss his interview?" Reid said.

"Because of Jess," Anna said softly, "it should have been yesterday."

"Oh," Reid said.

Anna was silent, except for giving directions, for the rest of the ride. Reid and Derek followed her example. They arrived at the house just as the coroner was removing the body. Anna scrambled out of the SUV and hurried over, Derek slid out and watched her curiously. "Excuse me," she said, "Doctor Frasier?"

"Yes, Miss?" The coroner said.

"I'm with the BAU, Anna Campbell," Anna said, holding up her badge, "I was wondering if you can confirm or deny a theory of mine about time of death."

"What do you mean?" The coroner asked.

"I just want to know if the TOD could be correlated with the new moon on October 7," Anna said, she held out a card, "I don't need to know now, but if you could possibly let me know what you find out."

The coroner took the card and put it in his jacket pocket, "Of course, Agent Campbell. I can tell you from the preliminary examination, your date isn't that far off the mark."

"Thank you," Anna said, she turned and walked back over to the SUV.

"What was that about?" Derek asked as he led the way to the house.

"The dates were off," Anna replied, "the three bodies found previously were all linked to a moon. Gehrig died when the moon was waxing crescent, Marks at first quarter, and Shovess at waxing gibbous. The ritual closest suited required a first sacrifice on the new moon. If this hermit has a time of death at the new moon, then I can confirm the ritual, which will tell us a few things about the unsub."

"Can I help you?" A plainclothes asked, coming out of the house.

"I'm Agent Derek Morgan," Derek said, "FBI," he held up his badge. "These are Agents Anna Campbell and Doctor Spencer Reid. We came to see the crime scene, to confirm if it's our serial killer."

"It is," the man said, "damn Satanic cults."

"It's _not_ a Satanic cult," Anna snapped, as she followed Derek and Reid into the house. "Just because there it's a ritual slaying doesn't mean it's someone trying to free Lucifer."

"How do you know that?" The officer asked, following them.

"Because I'm an expert in the occult," Anna replied, "and this is a pagan ritual." She turned away from the officer and took a good look at the crime scene. "Brigit's corset," she said, looking around at the numerous symbols painted on the walls in blood, "what the hell was he trying to do, bathe in the shit?"

Derek glanced at the younger Agent, and noticed that she was standing stoically, her eyes looking around the room with seeming calm. Her left hand was clenching and unclenching around her phone, and her right was plucking at her collar. She wasn't half as calm as she was pretending to be. "Anna," he said.

Anna looked over at him, her green eyes a little wider than they had been, "Sir?"

"Don't touch anything, and don't leave the property, ok?" Derek said.

"Yeah," Anna agreed, "sure." She took a few steps away and began to study the symbols. One of the crime scene techs was nearby, taking pictures. "Excuse me," she said, turning to him, "but are you taking pictures of all the symbols?"

"Yes ma'am," the man said.

Anna smiled at him, "Think I could get copies? I'm with the BAU."

"Sure thing," the man replied.

Derek shook his head and turned to the officer, "I don't believe I caught your name?" He offered.

"Detective Jesper," the man said, "I apologize."

"Ever seen anything like this?" Derek asked, glancing around again.

"No sir," Jesper replied, "I moved here from Oak Hollow, it's fifty miles from here and about two-thirds the size of Layson. My wife, she got a job here."

"Well," Derek said, "why don't you show me the rest of the house, walk me through what you've found."

"Right away." Jesper said, eager to get away from the living room.


	8. The Notebook

_A week,_ Morgan thought as he opened the door to the diner, _and we're no closer than we were when we got here._ He cast an eye over the diner, nodding at the regulars who signaled good morning to him and made his way back to the BAU's regular spot. Everyone but Anna was there, "Have you seen Anna?" He asked them as he approached the table.

"I haven't," Elle said, "I thought she was working out."

"No," Reid said, surreptitiously rubbing his shoulder where Anna had nailed him with a shoe the morning before.

"No," Jason and Hotch said in unison while J.J. shook her head.

"Well," Morgan said, "she isn't in her room, I called her room phone. She isn't at the hotel gym either and the lady at the desk just came on duty."

"Maybe she went to that diner she likes," Elle offered.

"Not without telling someone," Morgan replied, "ever since Hotch told her to, she makes sure she talks to someone."

"All the same," Hotch said, "someone should go down there."

Elle lifted her fork, "I'm done," she said, "and I went there with her the other night. I'll be back in ten minutes. She probably just got distracted by the pie."

Looks went around the table, and J.J. smiled slightly, Anna's obsession with pie was probably the most consistent thing about her. Morgan slid into a seat as Elle stood up, "Thanks," he said.

"No problem," Elle replied, "I like Anna too."

Morgan watched Elle leave, and smiled as the waitress, Emma, came by, "Morning, Agent Morgan," the older black woman said with a smile as she poured him some coffee, "Sleep well?"

"Well enough," Morgan replied, "I'll have pancakes and bacon."

"Short stack," Emma replied, "give it five." Morgan nodded slightly as he added sugar and cream to his cup.

The rest of the team was done eating, and Morgan almost done when Elle came back, "Anna wasn't there," she said quietly, holding up a spiral notebook, "but she was earlier this morning."

"Outside," Hotch ordered.

"I'll get the check," Gideon said.

Morgan followed the others out to the SUVs, where Elle opened the notebook, "Anna left this at the diner with the waitress, for any 'FBI Agent' who came looking for her. According to the waitress, Melanie, Anna showed up at two am complaining about insomnia. She had just this notebook and her cell phone with her. Melanie remembered her because she ate eight slices of pie, two of everything but the rhubarb. At six this morning, Anna became rather excited and claimed she'd figured something out and asked Melanie to watch her spiral. She intended to come back for it, but if she didn't, anyone who had an FBI badge would work."

"What was she working on," Hotch asked.

"I don't know," Elle replied, "almost all of it is in code."

"Almost all?" Derek said, trying to look at the page Elle had it open to.

"She left us a note," Elle replied as Jason joined them. "Team, sorry if I disappeared this morning, but I figured something out about the Unsub. Two things, actually, one of which I have to check out, the other should help you with your profile. The Unsub is Pagan. He isn't a fanatic, but he won't hide it. I don't expect my trip to take long, but I'll be back by nine at the latest. If I don't come back, Dean knows how to break my cipher, just call Bobby to get in touch with him. Hoping you never read this, AMC."

"We already suspected he was pagan," Reid said, "given the occult connection."

"It's eight," Morgan said, "I know she said nine, but she expected for us to not know she was gone. Something happened to her."

Hotch's cell phone rang, "Agent Hotchner," he said, turning away. "Yes," he said after a moment, "all right. I'll meet you there." Turning back to the team he said, "They just found another body, another man. Morgan, Elle, you're with me. Jason, Reid, J.J., head to the police station. Reid, see what you can make of Anna's notes."

The team split up, and Morgan couldn't help but feel grateful that Hotch was driving, "What was she thinking," he asked after a moment.

"She probably wants to prove herself," Elle offered, "we were talking about that yesterday, since we're both new to the team."

"You didn't run off," Morgan snapped back.

"Anna feels a lot of pressure," Elle replied, her tone slightly less harsh, "Because she burned some bridges when she left her family. Not to mention she was recommended to the Bureau by David Rossi, and Anna wants to prove that he didn't make a mistake."

"Rossi recommended her," Hotch repeated.

"Yes," Elle said, "I don't know if either of you listen when she talks, but she has a dozen stories about how she met Rossi, but it all boils down to, he recommended her and she looks up to him."

They finished the ride in silence, and met Detective Bower, "It's the same MO," he told them, "and last night was the full moon. Looks like Agent Campbell called it."

"Indeed," Hotch said as Morgan walked past them to look at the crime scene. It was a parking lot flanked on one side by a shopping center, and with a fast food restaurant and a club on the other side. The body lay behind the restaurant and in front of the club, out of casual line of sight, but still pretty open.

"Morning, Agent Morgan," Officer Jesper said.

"Officer Jesper," Morgan replied, "find anything interesting?"

"Depends on what you'd call interesting," Jesper said, jerking his head slightly. "Now, most of this is the same as we've been seeing, but if you'll come with me, there's something new here."

Morgan followed Jesper around the edge of the crime scene to where a tech was snapping pictures behind a dumpster for the restaurant. "More runes," Morgan said.

"More than that," Jesper replied, "these weren't done by the same person. It's not blood either, it's spray paint."

"I wonder what it was used for," Morgan said.

"I have a cousin," Jesper said, "He's the black sheep of the family. Most of them think he's crazy to. About ten years ago, he went completely crazy and took off. My old man tracked him down by following a string of petty crimes and such that he committed. Dad found him, all right, in a hospital, looking like he'd had the crap kicked out of him. Now Cousin Mike, he served his time and came home, and hasn't made any trouble since, but when he drinks he'll swear up, down and sideways that he was possessed by a demon and he was saved by a guy and his two kids."

"All right," Morgan said, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"Now, when Mike came home from prison, he did some redecorating around the outside of his house. His front and back porch have this symbol painted on the underside of the overhang. Calls them 'devil traps', to make sure he doesn't get possessed again." Jesper crossed his arms, "Apparently, they hold someone who is demon possessed until an exorcist can be performed."

Morgan pulled out his cell phone, "You're sure this is the same," he asked.

"Positive," Jesper replied.

Morgan pulled up Anna's number and let it ring. _"When push comes to shove, you taste what you're made of."_

Morgan cursed under his breath spinning around, "Where is that coming from?" He said.

"Here," Jesper said, "behind the dumpster."

Together, they pushed the dumpster enough to reveal an all too familiar backpack half dumped, a broken camera and a cell phone. Morgan turned, "HOTCH!" He shouted.


	9. The Profile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to practice things like creating and delivering a profile, but I trust that I will get better at it as I continue to write Criminal Minds and devise cases (occult or not) for Anna to help the BAU solve.

The police station hummed with activity as the calls began to come in, four hours after they had found Anna's belongings stuffed behind a dumpster at a crime scene, "What do we have," Hotchner asked.

"There are five women missing including Agent Campbell," Detective Bower said, "all of them were in that parking lot at some point in the last twelve hours, none of them have been seen since."

"Tell me," Hotchner said.

"Maurine Perez, age 20," Bower said, "she was at the restaurant buying coffee when they opened, on her way to work." He tapped the picture of a pretty, young Hispanic woman. "Kristina Wright, age 24, works as a bartender at the club behind the restaurant. Her car was still in the parking lot. Lara Sanders and Nora Richardson were supposed to open the coffee shop in the strip center at five, their boss arrived at five thirty to find both gone."

J.J. slid a copy of Anna's ID photo onto the table, "And Anna Campbell, FBI Agent. We don't know what she was doing there."

Hotch turned, "Reid, what can you make out of her notebook."

"Nothing," Reid said. "I've tried every combination I can think of. I'm not sure if the cipher base is even English." He laid the notebook flat, "I got the most luck with a shifted cipher, where you take the alphabet and move it over. I got some Latin words that I looked up, 'Father, ill kids, building', but the rest of it, I just can't understand."

"On Monday, she was talking about Sanskrit," Derek offered as he toyed with Anna's cell phone.

" _Got to fight another fight, got to run another night."_

"That's Anna's brother," Reid said, "at least, that's the ringtone from last time."

"Answer it Morgan," Hotch said, "Anna said they could help."

Derek pressed the talk button, "Anna's phone," he said.

"Who is this?" A man said belligerently.

"I am Agent Derek Morgan, who is this?" Derek replied.

"You one of those BAU people," the man said warily.

"I am," Derek replied, "is this Dean?"

"I might be."

"I need to know if you are," Derek said, "we need your help."

"What happened to Anna?" Dean demanded.

"Are you Dean?" Derek repeated.

"I am, where's my sister," Dean replied.

A voice in the background, "Dean, what's going on?"

Derek put the phone on speaker and Hotch leaned over, "Mr. Campbell, this is Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. Agent Campbell went missing this morning while tracking a lead on our case."

"Shit," Dean swore, "I thought you guys would keep an eye on her."

"Mr. Campbell, Anna left a notebook behind that we believe has information that can lead us to her," Hotch continued. "Our problem is, she's written her notes in a cipher that we can't translate. She left a note that said you could."

"I imagine I can," Dean replied, cautiously.

Derek closed his eyes and thought of the facts and jokes Anna had made, "Mr. Campbell," he said, "I promise that nobody here is going to run a criminal background check if you come help us find Anna. I also know that Anna has a deal with your friend Bobby Singer that she'll pay him for any advice or assistance he gives her. Whatever that deal is, I'll make it double."

"You know Bobby?" A second voice asked.

"I shook his hand on Monday," Derek replied, "you would be Sam then?"

"I am," Sam replied. "Dean had to go punch a wall. Anna said you were in Lawson, Missouri?"

"Yes," Derek agreed.

There was a rustle of paper, "We can be there tomorrow at the latest," Sam replied, "probably late tonight depending on how many times Dean gets us pulled. Hopefully, we won't get arrested on the way."

"If you do," Derek said, "call Anna's phone, we'll have it in reach."

"Ok," Sam said, "thank God I'm taller," he muttered as he hung up.

Derek closed Anna's phone and eyed Reid, "Anna's brother Dean probably has a criminal record, I know that Anna does from what she's said and not said."

"Is that why she pleads the fifth all the time?" Reid asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Derek replied.

"I think we need to release a preliminary profile on our killer," Hotch said finally, "Detective Bower?"

Derek really couldn't think of how many times he'd stood in a police department and listened to Hotch begin his speech. The difference being that this time, Derek wanted to be out in the streets, or doing something that would get their missing agent back. "Our unsub is a white male," Hotch began, looking at the group, "a father, possibly a single father. We believe that he is in his late twenties to mid thirties."

"He's not a Christian," Derek added, "he's probably identified himself as a Pagan to his coworkers."

"He works in construction, or with his hands," Gideon added.

"He's ritualistic, possibly OCD," Elle added.

"He's comfortable with the city," Reid added, "he probably grew up here."

"You probably know him, but you wouldn't notice him," Hotch finished.

"All right guys," Detective Bower said, "let's find this bastard."

"I do not have a good feeling about this," Derek said as the BAU team headed back into their conference room, "How do we know this is the same unsub?" His phone rang, he pulled it out and couldn't help the involuntary smile, "Baby Girl, you're on speaker," he said.

"Your police techs did something right," Garcia announced, "I have what's left of the camera memory in front of me."

"Please tell me you have something," Derek said.

"Most of the images have been degraded from the damage to the processes," Garcia said, "but I have one that is definitely the victim, alive. She took the picture through something, possibly a vehicle window, but the edges aren't clear enough."

"Are you sure he's alive?" Hotch asked.

"His eyes are open, and his hands were moving." Garcia replied. "I also have two pictures of a woman that came through perfectly, the first is of her standing by a light colored car. The second is her being dragged by a black figure to a van."

"Send us those pictures," Hotch ordered.

"On their way," Garcia replied. "I also tapped Campbell's phone. She made one call to a number in South Dakota, one Ellen Harvelle, at six-fifteen for three minutes, and then attempted to call Bobby Singer at six-twenty, but the call never connected. Next call I have is from Derek at seven thirty, and at seven-forty five. Elle made a call at seven-fifty eight. None of those three connected."

"Give me the number for Ellen Harvelle," Hotch said, grabbing a pen.


	10. The Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Dean is one of those characters that would have sworn a lot more if the censors would let him.

A loud voice brought Morgan out of his examination of crime scene photos; he looked around the conference room. Reid was sitting up and brushing his hair from his face, clearly trying to look as if he _hadn't_ been sleeping. J.J. and Elle were already starting to stand while Jason and Hotch were at the door, opening it fully. "Look," someone was saying, "We've been on the road for hours, because the FBI asked us to be here. Could you, I don't know, tell them that the Campbells are here?" Without conscious thought, Derek stood up, as did Reid, and the whole team poured out into the station proper to meet the Campbells.

There was a moment of confusion as the agents sorted themselves out, but Morgan's first impression of the pair was exceptional normality. He had subconsciously decided that Anna's brothers would be as unique as she was. This pair of young men looked like a pair of blue collar works, the sort who worked at a plant or in construction and drank too much beer on the weekend. "Mr. Campbell," Hotch said, drawing attention away from the hapless officer the pair was confronting. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, we spoke on the phone."

"Have you found her?" The shorter of the pair asked as he stepped forward.

 _Someone's been trained,_ Derek thought, noting it in the way even the man's most casual of gestures were economically played. "Not yet," Hotch said. "This is my team, Supervisory Special Agents Jason Gideon, Jennifer Jareau, Elle Greenway, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid."

"Yeah, whatever," the short one began.

"Dean," the taller of the two said, gripping his shoulder tightly. "I apologize, Agents," he continued with a slight smile. "We've been on the road since we spoke with you." Derek studied the man for a long moment, he'd met some tall people in his time, even cherished his memory of working crowd control at a Chicago Bulls game because he'd gotten an autographed basketball out of the deal. This young man was easily as tall as many of the professional basketball players, but he drew himself in, even though his shoulders were squared. He had an earnest look on his face that was a little bit apologetic, as if he were always apologizing for being taller than everyone else in the room.

"It's all right," J.J. said easily.

"I'm Sam," the tall one added, "and this is Dean." He paused, "Anna's twin."

"Morgan," Hotch said, "show the Campbells Anna's notebook."

"Right," Derek agreed. "If you will come into the conference room," he added.

"Actually," Sam said, "if someone could point me to the men's room?"

"I'm headed that way," Jason said, "come with me."

Derek led Dean into the conference room, "We've been working on the case in here," he said, "both of them."

"Both?" Dean replied sharply. As the younger man glanced at him sharply, Derek realized that they were the same height. Dean had simply looked smaller standing next to his tall brother. Another contrast, where Sam had been almost humbled by his size, Derek was quick to realize that Dean was arrogant and proud.

"The case that brought us out here," Derek replied, "and the disappearance of five woman, of which Anna is one."

"Right," Dean said, he picked up Anna's spiral and flipped it open to a random page. For a moment, he scanned it, and then he frowned. Then he gave an amused chuckle, "She hasn't changed," he announced, "I can crack this. I need time, paper, pen, a gallon of coffee and the address to that diner Anna's being telling about."

Morgan put a legal pad and pen at one of the few cleared seats at the table, "I'm not sure you'll have time," Reid announced, coming around Morgan, "statistically, every hour that passes after abduction sees a decrease in the likelihood that the victims will be found alive. After forty-eight hours, there's less than a ten percent chance of finding them. Even with that, chances are, the unsub has already killed them."

Dean threw the notebook and had his fist tightening in Reid's shirt before Morgan could blink, "Don't you _dare_ tell me Anna's dead," he snarled. Derek threw himself into the mess, one arm thrusting over Dean's chest to restrain him, the other grappling with the hand Dean clinched in Reid's shirt. Elle was there a second later, coming in from the other side, helping him force Dean to back off. Dean's hand tightened for a second, "Don't you _dare._ Anna's not dead until I've salted and burned her bones myself."

As suddenly as he'd attacked Reid, Dean let go, his green eyes narrowed and filled with a rage that Derek was used to seeing in fathers suddenly confronted with the violators of their children. "Mr. Campbell," Hotchner said, stepping between Dean and Reid as Derek shifted to bring Dean's arm around behind his back. "I will make an allowance this once. I understand that you are emotionally overwrought due to circumstances, but if you attack one of my agents again, I will be forced to arrest you."

Dean stared at him, breathing harshly for a long moment, then he snarled, "Keep the kid away from me then. Anna's _alive."_

"Doctor Spencer," Hotchner said with a quiet emphasis, "was only pointing out a statistical fact. He was not implying that Agent Campbell was dead."

Dean glanced at Derek, "You'll have to break my arm," he said, "I ain't going down."

Derek glared at him, "Let him go," Hotchner said.

Derek glanced at Hotchner as Elle stepped back, but let him go reluctantly. "What happened?" Sam demanded from the door way, "Dammit Dean, can't you go five minutes without fighting someone, or getting arrested?"

"Oh he's not arrested yet," Derek muttered.

"Perhaps we can make that not at all," Jason said smoothly, "Mr. Campbell, have you at least looked at your sister's notes."

Dean focused on Jason, his glare softening slightly, "Yes," he said. "I can translate it," he added almost grudgingly.

"Thank you," Jason said.

"Dean," Sam said, "If you promise not to attack and or get arrested, I'll go get food. I'm hungry, therefore you're probably staving."

"You are _not_ driving my baby," Dean said.

"Fine, I'll walk," Sam said, "there's a McDonalds up the road that was open when we drove past."

"McDonalds has crap pie," Dean said.

"If I can't drive to find a diner, then you're going to have to take what you can get," Sam replied.

"You are not _driving_ my baby," Dean snapped again, "God knows what you'd do to her, probably pay some of that emo sh- stuff that you like and her stereo will never recover." Derek glanced at the young man, surprised that he'd apparently censored himself, but took a second look as his expression registered. Annoyance and irritation were clear, but with an undertone of petulance that gave him a slightly different perspective on their guest.

"I'll drive," Elle offered, "I'm starting to feel hungry to." Everyone looked at her and she blinked, "We skipped dinner, and all I got to eat for lunch was a bag of chips. The only one of us who actually had food was Reid, because Ms. Ellen gave him her lunch."

Derek flicked a glance at Reid, who was blushing from his point nearly out the door. "All right," Hotchner said, "Morgan, Elle and Mr. Campbell will go. While you're gone, go by the hotel, get the rest of Anna's books and bring them back. They may be of use. Spencer, Gideon, J.J., you're also going back to the hotel."

"Hotch," Gideon began.

"Jason," Hotchner countered, "we're going to need our best minds to deal with whatever information Mr. Campbell can give us, and none of you are going to be any use without some sleep. It's one am now, I sincerely doubt that we're going to be here all night."

Gideon and Hotchner stared at each other for a long moment, then Gideon nodded, "J.J., Spencer, let's go," he said and headed out of the room.

Derek glanced at Elle and Sam, "I guess we should go to," he said, "what would you like, Hotch?"

"A sandwich will be fine," Hotchner said, "wheat bread."

"No mayonnaise, extra mustard," Derek finished for him. "Mr. Campbell?"

"I know what Dean likes," Sam said, "let's go."

As they headed out to the car, Derek couldn't help the look he gave Elle, who was studying Sam. "Mr. Campbell," she began.

"Please," Sam said, "Call me Sam. With there being two of us and all, it's going to get confusing fast if you all call us both Mr. Campbell."

"All right," Elle said, "Sam. I was wondering, you're _younger_ than Anna?"

Sam sighed, "As my brother and sister constantly remind me, Agent Greenaway."

"Elle," Elle said firmly, "you can call me Elle."

As they left the station, Derek asked, "Why is your brother so possessive about his car?"

Sam smiled at him and gestured, "Take a look," he pointed at the nearest visitor spot.

Derek whistled, "An Impala?"

"A nineteen sixty-seven Impala," Sam said with a touch of understated pride, "pretty much in pristine condition. She's the love of Dean's life, and has been since we were kids. The only girl Dean has loved more is Anna, and even _she's_ not allowed to drive his baby."

"It's a nice car," Elle offered, "but I wasn't joking about how hungry I was."

"Right," Derek said. "The SUV is over here," he told Sam, heading for their car.

Once they were in the car, Sam, who had slid into the back without a word, leaned forward, "If we could go somewhere other than McDonalds, I'd appreciate it. Even if we don't, can we stop somewhere for pie? If I didn't bring back a decent pie, Dean would complain about it and if I didn't hit him, someone else would shoot him."

"We could go to the diner by the hotel," Elle offered, "Anna loves the pie there."

"That would be great," Sam said.

"I take it," Derek said as he backed out of the parking space, "that you aren't as obsessed with pie as Anna and Dean?"

"No," Sam replied as he leaned back. "Jess was big on eating healthy." He trailed off.

Derek glanced at Sam in the mirror, struck by the grief on his face. Then he remembered, "She's the one who died on Monday, right?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Derek said, "Anna said you were engaged."

"Not yet," Sam corrected him, "I was going to propose after…" he stopped for a moment, "after I heard about my law school interview."

They fell silent for the rest of the drive. At the hotel, Derek said, "Do you want to see about rooms for you and Dean while we're here?"

Sam glanced at the hotel, and shook his head, "No. There was a motel we passed by on the way in; we'll probably crash there."

"Why?" Elle said, "This is a good hotel."

Sam sighed, glanced at the hotel again, and then turned away, "Not all of us can have our travel expenses paid for by the government, Agent Greenaway." He stalked away, heading for the door to the diner.

"I think you should go get Anna's books," Derek said, "I'll get the food."

"Right," Elle replied, heading across the parking lot.

Derek stepped in the diner and spotted Sam studying the menu, he moved up beside him and studied the special board. "I'm sorry," Sam said, "I didn't mean to snap like that."

Derek smiled, "It's ok."

They got their food and headed back out to the SUV, where Elle was waiting, "I'm sorry," she said, "I spoke without thought. Anna told me that your family didn't have a lot of money."

"I'm sorry I snapped," Sam said, "I guess I'm more tired than I thought."

They climbed back in the SUV and pulled out of the parking lot, "Are you pagan, like Anna?" Elle asked after a few minutes.

"No," Sam replied, "I guess if I'm anything, I'm Christian, but I'm not especially religious. Dad always said that going to church was important."

"Then how did Anna wind up a pagan," Elle said.

Sam laughed, "That happened when she was twelve. She'd just started…growing, and Dad took her to some lady he knew to get what Anna referred to as the 'Girl Facts'. She came back two weeks later while we were staying at Pastor Jim's place. She didn't even take her stuff to her room, just marched in, starred at Pastor Jim and asked him, 'If God's so all powerful, why does he let people do evil things?' When she didn't like his answer, she started hammering him with questions about free will and what God was thinking and stuff that Pastor Jim couldn't answer. Dad called her on it, and she says, 'I get the supernatural Dad, but I don't get humans. Wendigos and vampires and all of them, they're just being who they were made to be. Humans, on the other hand, don't make no sense.' Pastor Jim told her that God had given us free will so that we could learn about good and evil for ourselves. Anna gave him this dirty look and walked away. Next day was Sunday, and when Anna didn't come down for church, Dad went up after her. Anna told him that if God was real and was letting people act like they were, then she didn't believe in God.

"After that, Anna refused to go to church unless she had to. That was when she really started studying religions too. It was funny, because she'd read all these books and then she'd spend a week practicing the religion. When she was studying Ra and the Egyptian gods, she was really excited about it. That is, she was excited until Dean started following her around 'walking like an Egyptian' and telling her she had to cut her nose off to get the 'full experience'."

Elle chuckled, and Derek smiled, "So, where did Bridget come from," he asked.

" _Brigit,_ " Sam corrected him, "Is actually a Celtic Goddess. We were in New England for Christmas that year, little place in New Hampshire, I think." He paused, "No, not there." He shrugged, "I don't really remember, but I know it was snowing. Uncle Bobby came up to see us, and he brought her a book of Celtic Gods and Goddesses and told her that he'd never heard of a Celtic Reconstructionist going evil and she might want to look into it. She read the book, did her research and at Midwinter, she dedicated herself to Brigit. She was sixteen."

"Celtic Reconstructionist," Elle said, "what's that?"

"I really don't know," Sam said, "I never got a real answer out of her. Dad was somewhat relieved that she'd settled on _something_."

"I can imagine," Derek said.

"Anna had been studying Druidic lore," Sam added as they pulled into the police station, "it made Dad nervous, especially after… the tree thing." He unbuckled his seatbelt and slid out of the SUV as soon as it had stopped, taking his meal and Dean's with him.

Derek followed him, wondering what had prompted Sam to edit his story, but he stopped on the stairs to look at Elle, "He's lying," he said.

"He's editing," Elle replied, "and he's not nearly as good at it as Anna is. I don't doubt that everything he's told us is the truth, but he left off a large part of it."

"We should let Hotch know," Derek said.

"Right," Elle agreed, and headed inside, "but after we eat."

They walked into the conference room in time to hear Sam say, "They only had rhubarb left."

"What?" Dean demanded.

"Because I convinced them to let me have the last of the blueberry," Sam finished, sliding the box across the table to his brother.

"Bitch," Dean muttered as he opened the box.

"Jerk," Sam replied.

They exchanged a look, as if waiting for another voice.


	11. Translation, Research and Information

The Campbells arrived at the police station moments after Derek did, "Look," Sam was saying as he climbed out of the Impala, "we already know the ritual Anna was researching. I can do the same research while you're looking through the journal. Between the two of us, it might go that much faster."

"I'll have the journal translated before you can track down all the lore," Dean replied, also getting out, "it's a waste of time."

"Good morning, Agent Morgan," Sam said instead of replying to Dean.

"Good morning," Derek replied, "Sleep well?"

"Well enough," the brothers said in synch, even as they glared at each other.

"We should get started again," Derek suggested, gesturing to the police station.

The trio walked inside and Sam glanced over at him, "Where's the rest of your team?"

"J.J., Hotch and Gideon are already here. Doctor Reid and Elle went to look back over the crime scenes again." Derek replied, deciding not to mention that Spencer's absence had been decided after Dean's actions the day before.

"Doctor Reid's the skinny kid," Dean said, "the one that suggested Anna was dead, right?"

Sam opened the door for them, "Doctor Reid was only quoting known statistics regarding kidnappings," Derek corrected him, "he was in no way implying that Anna was dead."

"Didn't sound like it to me," Dean grunted, hurrying across the bullpen to the conference room without a single glance around.

"Doctor Reid just _happened_ to know those statistics?" Sam inquired as they followed at a slower pace.

"Reid is an eidetic," Derek replied, "and a genius."

Sam nodded, but Derek caught the flash of respect in his eyes. "I'll keep Dean off his case," Sam said.

They stepped into the conference room to find Dean already looking over a page, muttering just loud enough that they could hear him, "'Saw Power Rangers at the diner today, have gained new appreciation for the effect of spandex on male,' _dammit_ Anna!"

"What?" Hotch asked, even as Sam snorted.

Dean glanced up, "Since I don't have time to translate everything, I'm looking for words, like male, or anatomy. Some of it is important, some of it is shit she threw in there to torment me."

"That's not possible," Derek felt compelled to say, "There was no way she'd know you were reading her notes."

"Explain this," Dean retorted, flipping a page, " _'Found the world's best pie; note to self, do not tell Dean where the pie is, only torment him with its existence.'"_

Sam snorted another laugh even as he picked up one of the books scattered on the table, "Yeah, she's tormenting you all right. Trust Anna to be efficient enough to figure out ways to do it when she isn't here."

Again, the brothers stopped for a moment, as if waiting for something. Then Dean turned back to the notebook and Sam began to flip through the book in silence. Derek shook his head and turned to study the wall of information they'd accumulated. His eyes darted from image to image, looking for clues. "Got something," Dean announced.

"What?" Hotch asked.

"This guy, he's a dad." Dean said, "She's predicting it at least. _'Until the finale male victim turns up, I cannot do any more than guess, but this particular ritual is often performed by parents of ill children although there is a distinct percentage of children performing this for parents, or siblings for siblings. Whoever this is, there has to be a blood relative of the first degree or the ritual won't work.'"_

"What does the final victim have to do with anything?" Jason asked.

"What ritual is it?" Sam retorted.

"Lihannon," Dean said absently.

Sam nodded and went back to flipping through the book.

Derek opened his cell phone and hit speed dial, then speaker, "Information superhighway, speak and be recognized," Garcia said cheerfully.

"Hey Baby Girl," Derek said, "You're on speaker. I was wondering what you could tell us about Ridley Slain, our last victim."

"I thought you'd have something hard," Garcia said. "Ridley Slain, age 31, father of two. The older of the two is Micah, age fourteen and the younger is Rebecca, age eleven. Ridley is divorced, but had primary custody of the children because he was financially stable. His wife had just filed paperwork to renegotiate the custody agreement."

"Thank you," Derek said.

"Any news on Campbell?" Garcia asked.

"Not yet," Derek said.

Anna's phone began to ring, Hotch grabbed it before either of the Campbells could "Agent Campbell's phone," Hotch said. "This is Agent Hotchner, who is this?" Derek absently hung up his phone, watching Hotch. "Mr. Singer, I'm afraid Agent Campbell can't answer her phone, but I can take a message, especially if this pertains to the case."

Derek slid a pad of paper and a pen to Hotch as Hotch put the phone on speaker, "This is an obscure form of the Lihannon ritual," Mr. Singer was saying. "It's possible your killer knows about it. It's a short version of the second half of the ritual, where five women are bound together, and who were taken on the full moon. They are held for three days, and at sundown on the final day, the castor begins the ritual. The upshot is that one of the five is intended as the vessel for Lihannon. Two of the others will be slain by the Goddess for energy and the final two bound to her as handmaidens."

"Three days," Derek said.

"Yes," Singer agreed, "but there's a catch. Mind you, I've only found one reference to it, but it says that a woman who is consecrated by a different God or Goddess cannot be the vessel. Any attempt by Lihannon to poses such a person would result in Lihannon being cast out from the body and possibly even a fight between the two deities."

"If we have any further questions, we'll contact you, Mr. Singer." Hotch said, and hung up the phone.

"Three days," Dean said, looking at Sam, "that's tomorrow." He turned another page of the book, "Come on Anna; just give me something."

"Anna may not, but I have something," Sam said, pulling a scrap of paper from his book. "What's this?" He handed it to Dean.

Dean looked over it, "Sam, write this down." Derek watched, peripherally aware that Detective Bower had stopped in the doorway. " _Saw Reid marking a map with the dump sites and abduction sites after they found the first victim. It took me a few hours, but I realized what the pattern was Reid didn't see. If you look at the fact that the first victim was killed in his home, making it the starting point, but the second victim was last seen in the strip center just down the road from that victim. If you follow the road in front of the strip center north, it is a direct line to the second dump site. Three blocks from that dump site is where victim three was last seen. Follow that road south; you get the third dump site. Two blocks to the fourth victim vanished and another road will take us straight to the fourth dump site. There is no surface road, but if you take the interstate straight through town, it is the final line. Finally, all of the dump sites are within two blocks of Loop 833. It makes a pentagram. The final death will be at dawn, and there are three possible sites.'"_

"Got it," Sam said.

Derek had pulled out Reid's map and followed Dean's words. "He's right," Derek said looking at Hotch, "it's a pentagram."

"I think we have something," Detective Bower interjected, "someone just called in a tip."


	12. New Leads

Michael Torrence was not a killer. Derek didn't even have to walk in the interrogation room to know that. Looking through the two way mirror, Derek saw what he imagined Anna referring to as 'Satanic light', make up, black nail polish, strategically tragic clothes over a frame that was drug induced slim, and lanky black hair came together to in a disturbingly stereotypical rebel of society. "That's not him," Derek said, looking at Hotch, "he doesn't even fit the profile."

Hotch looked at Detective Bower, "So why is he even here?"

"I'm not the one who brought him in," Bower replied, looking disgusted.

"I think we should update the profile," Hotchner said, "Derek, have Garcia run searches for single fathers in the Lawson area with two children, older son, younger daughter, one or both of whom have terminal illnesses."

"On it," Derek said.

"What about Torrence," Bower said, "we can't leave him."

"I'll handle Torrence," Jason said.

Derek almost wanted to be there to see what Jason was up to, but someone had to tell the Campbells what was going on. As he strode through the bullpen, Derek wondered how he had become the 'person to trust' for all three of the Campbells. It was a little disturbing how all three of them reacted to the team. He shook his head, and called Garcia, "Queen of Knowledge, what do you want to know?" Garcia said brightly.

"Hey Baby Girl," Derek said as he stepped in the conference room, "I need you to run a search for me."

"All you have to do is ask," Garcia said.

Derek shook his head as Dean and Sam glanced up from their chairs, identical glares that faded when he shook his head slightly. "I need all single fathers in Lawson with two children, older boy, younger girl with terminal illnesses," Derek said.

"I'm on it," Garcia said.

Derek shifted the phone, "Torrence was a bust," he told the Winchesters, noticing the handcuffs on the table, "the officer who brought him in was an idiot too."

"I have two," Garcia announced.

Derek nodded as Hotchner stepped in the room, "Let me put you on speaker," he said suiting actions to words.

"First is Sam Granger," Garcia said, "age 35, older son has AIDS, daughter has Downs Syndrome. Second is Adam Lansing, age 33, son and daughter both with cystic fibrosis. Adam also buried another daughter just over a month ago, also from cystic fibrosis."

"There's our trigger," Derek said, exchanging a long look with Hotch, "what else can you tell us about Adam Lansing?"

"He's widowed, works construction," Garcia said, "rents a home in the southwestern part of Lawson."

"Thanks Baby Girl," Derek said.

"Not a problem, handsome," Garcia replied. "I'm sending the rest of the details to you now."

"Derek, get some plain clothes, we're heading out to check up on Mr. Lansing," Hotch ordered, as Derek hung up the phone. He glanced up as Elle and Reid came into the conference room. "Elle, Reid, you're going to check in with Lansing's job, see what you can find."

"We want to help," Dean said.

"You have helped," Hotchner replied sharply, "Now you can let us do our job, Mr. Campbell."

"Or what, you'll handcuff us again," Dean said, and picked up one of the pairs from the table, "It didn't work so well last time."

"Then this time, I'll have them put you in a jail cell," Hotchner said, bending over the laptop and opening the email server. Derek moved to look over Hotchner's shoulder for a first glance of the unsub.

"What crime?" Dean asked.

"Interfering with a federal case," Hotchner replied.

Derek studied the man in the picture, then read the address. "We'll stay here," Sam said, quietly but deftly cutting off Dean's rebuttal, "but, if you find her will you call us please?"

"I will," Derek said.

 **….**

Dean glared as the man named Gideon came into the conference room fifteen minutes later, "Anything?" He demanded.

"No," Gideon replied.

"We've wasted an entire day on this," Dean growled and looked at Anna's journal again, his mind automatically translating the written twin-speak into Latin and then English. He turned a page, began reading again, and swore.

"What," Sam asked.

" _There's an alternate ritual for summoning the Goddess. It still requires the sacrifices of self, but there's an accelerated version of the actual summoning. It's possible the practitioner knows this ritual. To pull it off, he'd need a lot of space, like a farm, or maybe a deer lease. The ritual has a unique component to it, in that the women chosen must be kept underground, and the ritual itself performed as the final rays of sunlight fill the sky. The quick notes I made suggest a pit with a cover, something to keep the women confined. It would take time to build this, and it couldn't be done in the city."_ Dean read quickly, then looked up, "They're going to the wrong place."

"You just now found this," Sam said as Gideon pulled out his cell phone.

"Excuse me for being rusty," Dean snapped back, as much to hide his rising panic as in irritation that Sam was questioning him; Sam was _always_ questioning him these days. "We haven't spoken 'twin' in almost ten years, and except for _one letter_ eight years ago, I haven't had much call to read 'twin' either."

"Aaron," Gideon said, "where are you?" He paused, "Mr. Campbell has made an additional translation from Anna's journal. It's possible the women won't be there. According to Anna's notes, the women are underground somewhere, a place that is isolated and large, like a farm or a deer lease." There was a long pause, and Gideon shook his head, "Go ahead and use the warrant to search the place. We might find additional proof that he's our unsub." Another pause, "I'll talk to Garcia."

Gideon hung up and eyed Dean for a long moment, "Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

Dean glanced at the journal page, "No, most of this is personal, like, _'I haven't decided if I like Agent Hotchner or not. He's an excellent profiler, but he really needs to pull that stick out of his ass so that he can be a better people person.'_ " There was another note on Gideon, but Dean wasn't sure how the taciturn profiler would take it. "She likes all of you, though." Dean continued, "Says you're all worth knowing."

Gideon stared at him for a long moment before speed dialing a different number.


	13. To Pray

Anna Marie Campbell was pissed. Every time she prowled the edges of the chicken wire cage, her temper rose just a little more. She could see the other four women the unsub had captured, but none of them were looking at her. Maurine, the youngest, was asleep, curled up on the inflatable mattress in her cage like the innocent she was. Kristina, the bartender, was pacing again. Lara and Nora, the women from the coffee shop, were sitting as close to each other as their cages permitted.

Anna looked around the underground room again, studying the layout yet again. The room was square, with hard packed dirt walls and floor. The ceiling was a wooden platform, Anna estimated it to be between eight and ten feet high, given her inability to reach it. Her cage was in the center of the room, and was a perfect square. The other four cages were against the walls and more rectangular than square. Each cage had a bare bulb over it, all of which were on, and all of which were out of their reach.

Next, Anna studied her cage. The wood had been anchored to the floor and ceiling, and the chicken wire strung between. She had already tried to free the wire from the wood and had a broken nail to show for it. There was no way she could get free without tools.

That was Anna's final study, herself. Her hair had been cut, almost back to the boy-short spikes she'd favored as a teenager. None of her hairclips and bobby pins had survived the cut. Her clothes were gone as well. She was now barefoot and clad in what appeared to be a hand woven cotton dress that had never been dyed.

The other women were dressed identically, but they all had long, dark hair. Anna did not have a good feeling about that, especially since the close cut had made her blond roots distressingly obvious. "How long have we been here?" Kristina suddenly exploded, storming to the front of her cage.

"This is the third day," Anna replied, schooling her features to hide her unease. "He'll be in to feed us soon."

"I want out of here," Kristina said, she gripped the wire and looked upwards, "You can't keep us in here!" She shrieked.

It was the fourth time one of them had exploded, and Anna only closed her eyes, hoping that they didn't get a visit from an angry unsub. "How are you so calm?" Lara asked, also standing up to stare at her.

Anna snorted, "It's not my first time in a cage." She drifted around the cage, meeting the eyes of her fellow women. "I was a Marine straight out of high school, did some black ops, got a medical discharge after a run in with some terrorists, healed up, got recruited to the FBI, finished training, and here I am."

"You're FBI," Kristina said skeptically.

"Yes," Anna said, she crossed her arms, "I'd show you my badge, but I stashed it in my backpack before I got caught. My team probably has it in evidence."

"What would the FBI be doing in Lawson?" Maurine asked

"Lawson has a serial killer," Anna replied, "the BAU was sent out to profile him and catch him." She spun in an idle circle, "Of course, now they'll be after this guy, but unless I miss my guess it's the same unsub."

"Why do you think that?" Kristina asked.

"Because he's conducting a ritual," Anna said, "and we're the last of it." She rubbed her hands as footsteps echoed on the decking above. She rolled her shoulders, tilted her head back and forth and cracked her knuckles. "Here we go," she said.

The hatch opened and the unsub climbed down. Anna drifted to the center of her cage, reminding herself that she had to be careful of her bare feet. As the unsub came into the light, Anna felt her gut clench, because he looked so normal. Sandy blond hair, kind blue eyes, he looked almost like John Winchester in the family pictures from before her mother had died. "Please," Lara said, "let us go."

The man didn't look at her, his gaze was focused on Anna, who stared right back at him. "It's time," he said hoarsely.

"You don't have to kill them," Anna replied, stepping forward.

"I have to," he replied as he knelt down. "The Goddess demands it." He pulled a can of spray paint from the ground and painted a symbol.

Anna closed her eyes, _Brigit, my lady,_ she prayed silently, _help me._

Behind her, she heard Maurine, "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with the. Blessed art thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of your womb."

Anna wanted to tell her that praying to God wouldn't help. "It won't help," the unsub said, as he turned to spray in front of Kristina's cage; "your God has no place here."

"Our Father," Kristina began, "who art in Heaven."

Shakily, Maurine and Lara joined her. Nora only stood there, serene in her own way. Anna thought she saw her lips moving, perhaps whispering a prayer in Hebrew. The unsub looked at Anna as he moved in front of Maurine, "You do not pray?" He said.

Anna shook her head, "I am not Christian," she told him.

"Good," the unsub replied and started painting again.

Anna watched the unsub as he painted the symbols, and then left. She knelt to take a long look at the symbols, nodding to herself at seeing the repeat of what had been painted at each of the crime scenes. There was a light twist to the symbols that indicated the feminine nature of the five. "Why didn't he feed us?" Maurine asked shakily clinging to the fence and staring at her. Anna stood up and moved back to the center of the cage.

"Because," Anna replied as the lights cut off one at a time, "it's time to finish the ritual."


	14. To Rescue

Trap doors over each of the cages opened, letting in the light of sunset fall in. Anna looked around, reading the expressions on the faces of her fellow captives. "I suggest you pray," she told them, "my team is the best in the BAU, between them and my brothers, I don't think this is going to end the way he wants." Carefully she stepped into the center of the shaft of light, closed her eyes and whispered her own prayer, "Brigit, Goddess of fire and poets, you who have been my guide, protect me."

Drum beats filled the air and when Anna opened her eyes and looked up, she saw the unsub, now dressed in a lose pair of cotton pants and nothing else, looking down at her. Just as their eyes met, he began to chant.

Anna closed her eyes, turning her attention inward, _"Morrigan, steel my heart for battle, Brigit, let your fire be my shield."_

As if from a distance, she heard the other women praying to God and hoped that he would be their armor. She opened her eyes and noted the lessening of the light, even as the unsub's chanting became louder. For a brief moment, she admired his accent, and facility with the Gaelic tongue, then reminded herself that he was planning to kill her.

It was becoming hard to see and Anna shuddered, it wouldn't be long.

Bright lights filled the sky and Anna screamed as something fell on her, "Brigit," she cried out.

 **…**

The unsub didn't own land, but his wife's brother-in-law had a hunting lease outside of town. They drove out to the lease quietly as the sun began to set. At the back of the line was a gleaming black Impala. Dean had made a deal with them, he and Sam would hang back, at the edge of the property line, but they wanted to be there. Derek hadn't approved, but Hotchner had agreed.

The lease was set back in the woods, but included a large meadow. Adam Lansing's friend and Deputy Sheriff Kenneth Poplar, had given them the layout. They would be taking the back way, a dirt track that would bring them to the meadow from the far side, a track Lansing hated because it was rough.

As he clung to the side of the SUV, Derek reflected that the deputy sheriff had a talent for understatement. Behind him, Reid yelped as his head cracked against the top of the SUV a third time.

Finally, they stopped and everyone climbed out and gathered around to discuss the plan again. Derek stared at Poplar, "You call that a road?"

"Told you it was rough," Poplar replied, looking pale.

"You ok?" Derek asked.

"I just can't believe that it's Adam," Poplar replied, "I mean, his family's always been pagan and all, but I never pictured him as a murderer."

Derek eyed him for a moment, then moved over to Hotch, "I think Poplar needs to be kept out of this," he murmured.

"Why?" Hotchner replied.

"He's going to hesitate," Derek said. It was an argument he'd expressed on the way up.

"He's here," Hotchner said.

"Make him watch the Campbells," Jason said, "to ensure that they don't get involved."

Hotchner left them to talk to the sheriff and the chief of police, face grim. "Are you ready?" Jason asked.

Derek's lips twitched, "I was born ready."

Assignments were given, and they headed across the woods to the meadow. Derek's position brought him into the meadow at the top of a slope so he had a good view. The Lansing was standing on a wooden platform that had five large hatches he was opening. A battered green pickup was parked near the edge of the platform. "He's alone," Derek breathed into his mic, "I can't see the women, but he's standing on a wooden platform, they may be under that."

Lansing walked over to his truck and stripped, changing into a pair of white pants, then did something where the air was filled with pounding drums. He then headed back to the center of the platform and stood there. "What's he doing?" Jesper asked from beside him.

"Ritual," Derek replied, "he thinks he's finishing it."

The sheriff's truck eased into the clearing behind Lansing as they watched, barely visible in the twilight. "Get ready," Hotch said over the radio, "move as soon as the lights come on."

Derek shifted, checked his grip on his gun and nodded to the five officers with him, all of whom nodded back.

The lights from the truck came on, not just the headlights, but the brighter search lights on top of the hood, "This is the police, Adam Lansing," the sheriff called over his bullhorn, "put your hands up."

Derek began to run down the slope as Lansing started at the lights and the sudden sound, lost his footing and disappeared down the center hole. A cry of surprise echoed out of the hole as Derek reached the edge of the platform.

"Anna," a woman called.

"I'm ok," Anna said tightly.

Derek eased across the platform, waving the officers back. When he reached the center hatch, he found Anna sitting on Lansing's back, both of his arms was twisted up behind him as he tried to shake her off. "Anna," Derek said.

Anna glanced up and then away from the flashlight he turned on, "Hi, Morgan," she said, "can I borrow your handcuffs?" Lansing tried to twist again, "It's no use, you know. You've failed," she told him.

"Catch," Derek said, and dropped a set of cuffs to her.

"You are under arrest," Anna began in a gleeful tone.

"Morgan," Hotch called.

Derek looked up, "Anna seems to be fine," he called, "She's getting cuffs on Lansing."

One of the deputies had opened another hatch, "There's a ladder here," he called and started down.

"By the way," Anna said, "you know how I said I wasn't a Christian." She slid off Lansing and hauled him to his feet. "I'm pagan, and _Brigit_ is my Goddess. It would never have worked in the first place."

Lansing slumped slightly, defeated.

"By the way," Derek said, "your brothers are here."

"Oh good," Anna said, "I've been wanting to hit someone." A drop light came on underground and for a brief moment, Derek thought he saw a desperate vulnerability cross her face moments before her bright and cheerful smile appeared.


	15. Reunion

Dean and Sam arrived shortly after they got the women out of the ground, fighting their way through the crowd of officers and deputies to catch Anna in a tight hug. Derek, carrying a blanket he'd snagged for her, found himself watching as she reunited with her brothers. For Sam, there was a hug and kiss to his cheek as she spoke to him. For Dean, there was a slug to his shoulder followed by an even tighter hug that turned into a comforting embrace.

Derek was struck by how soft the two of them appeared, for a brief moment it was as if all the sharp edges he'd seen in Dean and suspected in Anna had blurred as they came together. "Derek," Hotchner said.

Derek looked at him, "What, oh, yeah," he held up the blanket, "I'll let Anna know we need to get her statement."

"Right," Hotchner said. "Remind her that she needs to go to the hospital as well."

Derek nodded and headed over to where the Campbells were talking, in the half light of the surrounding vehicles, "Anna," he called.

Anna turned, stepping back from her brother enough to do so, but close enough that his arm could stay around her waist, "Agent Morgan," she said, "Glad to see you found me."

"Thanks to Dean," Derek replied, "and again, you can call me Derek."

Anna glanced at Dean with a little smile that he returned, "I'll try."

Dean frowned as Anna shivered and shrugged off one of his jackets, "Here," he said, throwing it over her shoulders.

"I brought a blanket," Derek said, "and Anna, when the ambulances leave, you are to go with them."

"Why?" Dean and Anna asked in unison.

"For one, you need to be checked over by a doctor to make sure you're fine," Derek replied, "You look fine, but it's standard procedure." He glanced at Dean and Sam, "We also need your statements."

Anna opened her mouth, a belligerent expression coming to her face, but Sam blocked her mouth with an innocuous grin, "If she misses the ambulance, we'll drive her." His smile stayed bland even as both of his siblings glared at him.

"I have your word on that," Derek said, looking at the three of them.

"Of course," Dean said.

Sam yelped and pulled his hand away from Anna's mouth, "You licked me."

Derek shook his head, "Morgan!" Reid called.

"Don't miss your ride," Derek told Anna before heading to see what Reid needed.

…

Anna glared at Sam as a nurse wheeled her into the waiting room, "I don't like you very much," she told her little brother.

"My heart bleeds for you," Sam said, "but at least we know you're fine now. Not to mention the fact that your friends are still tying up loose ends at the crime scene."

"I don't like you leaving without eating something," a doctor said as he joined them.

"We're going to get something to eat," Dean said, "as soon as we get Anna discharged."

"Some place with pie," Anna said, standing up from the chair moments after it stopped. "I know this place, has the best pie ever." She paused, "They even do a mean Greek salad too."

Dean slid his arm over her shoulder, "Let's go then, the Impala's this way."

"Shotgun," Sam said instantly.

They filled out the paperwork the doctor insisted on, including AMA forms, and walked out of the hospital together. Dean said, "How did you get caught?"

"I was in the van with my camera," Anna replied, "just taking some pictures before I freed the last guy. He hit me from behind." She glanced around for eavesdroppers, "As the ritual continues, Lihannon can, and does, gift her followers with power. That's what he got me with, a levinbolt."

"That's nasty," Dean said, "I was wondering about that part."

"I'm not sure what happened to my camera and my phone," Anna said.

"He kicked them under the dumpster," Sam replied, "broke the camera, but the phone was fine."

"Ah," Anna replied, "well, when I woke up, I was in that hole with the other women. I'd found some mention of an alternate ritual in this journal I found, and with all of us there, I knew he was going to use it."

"Bobby found that," Dean said, "he called and told us. He also told us that a woman consecrated to another God or Goddess couldn't be possessed."

"My version said the same," Anna agreed, "but I've seen other studies that don't mention that."

"How could you be sure one of the others wouldn't be the vessel," Sam asked as they reached the Impala.

"Maurine," Anna said as she slid into the backseat, "is a devout Catholic, she was sealed as a child and again as she entered adulthood. Kristina's old school Baptist while Lara is a born again Christian, they've both been baptized. Nora is Hebrew."

"So they all had God to protect them," Sam said.

"Yes, but what happened during the ritual." Dean demanded.

"When he finished chanting the first spell," Anna said, "she was there. I could see her. She had long, curly blond hair and blue eyes and she was exceptionally beautiful. She was standing on the far side of the wire cage, staring at me. Then she reached out to pass through the wire, and flames came up at the edge of the cage. Then another woman appeared, wearing chainmail that looked like fire, and a helmet to match. In one hand she held a dagger, and she said something, I think it was Celtic. The first, she must have been Lihannon, she hissed and her mouth became full of sharp teeth just before she was obscured by blue smoke. The smoke drifted for a bit, but this light appeared when it tried to enter the other cages, and finally it shot upwards through the wood and away." She leaned forward, "Turn left up here, ok?"

"Sure," Dean replied.

"Anyways, that's when the unsub fell on me," Anna concluded. "He was stunned, so I flipped him off me and then, I sat on him." She punched Sam in the shoulder, "All those times you jumped on me came in handy, Samsquatch."

"I take it that some of this is going to be left out of your report," Sam commented.

"Pretty much anything referring to the supernatural," Anna replied. "I do intend to include six pages of occult information in there. The diner's up here on the right, Dean."

They pulled in at the diner and climbed out, as they headed for the door, Dean said, "Anna, are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it's your first case and you were kidnapped and used in part of a very dangerous Pagan ritual."

Anything else Dean might have said was stopped by Anna's fist impacting with his nose.


	16. A Secret and Secretive Life

Derek glanced up as the door to Hotch's office open and Anna walked out. Her smile wasn't as cocky as it had appeared on her way in, but it was still there. Whatever Hotch has said to her about going out to eat with her brothers instead of waiting at the hospital or going back to the station clearly hadn't bent her spirit much. "Anna," Reid said as she came down the stairs, "That can't be your report, can it?"

Anna's smile became a wicked grin, "You mean this?" She tapped the thick stack of papers in the middle of her newly assigned desk.

"Well, yes," Reid replied.

"Of course it is," Anna replied, "I included some information about Lihannon and the ritual in there that I felt would be vital for anyone who found themselves dealing with it somewhere else. Why?"

"It's long," Reid said.

"Well," Anna tilted her head as she leaned against her desk, "I wanted to be thorough. I may not always be available to take a case like this and the knowledge is important. 'No learning, no knowledge is ever wasted.'"

" _Whisky for my men, beer for my horses,"_ Anna's phone blared.

"Agent Anna Campbell," Anna said brightly. Her smile turned wicked, "Well bless my soul, Andy McCrae what a thing to call a lady!" Derek couldn't help raising his eyes at Anna's suddenly Southern accent. "I swear, Andy, I didn't plan that." Anna said, she shifted off her desk and headed for the door to the BAU. "Look sugar," Anna continued, "I told you this the last time. I make my own life." She shoved the door open, "It's been almost ten damn years McCrae," her accent slipped even as the door shut behind her.

"Andy McCrae," Reid said, in his 'I remember him' tone.

"What about him?" Derek asked.

"I know an Andrew McCrae," Reid said, "with the U.S. Marshalls."

"Yeah," Derek said.

"He works in WitSec," Reid replied, "we worked with them last year, right before he transferred. We play chess online sometimes."

"I remember him," Derek said, surprising himself, "Good man, good marshal to."

Anna came back in the door looking irritated, "Sorry about that," she told them, fiddling with her phone, "Crazy ex-boyfriend, saw something on-line about Lansing and freaked. I wish he would just lose my number. I've blocked his number before, but he just gets a new phone."

"Have you talked to the police?" Reid asked.

Anna shrugged, "He's harmless, Reid."

"Someone like that," Derek began.

"Harmless," Anna interrupted him, "in this case means, _he's a paraplegic with the internet and too much time on his hands."_

"On that note," Derek said, sensing that he really shouldn't push the younger agent right then, "there's someone I think you should meet." He stood, "Come with me, Anna."

"Ok," Anna said. She grinned at Reid, "If you want to read my report, you can. Let me know what you think of it, hey?"

"Sure," Reid said, "I'd be happy to."

"Thank you," Anna said, and squeezed Reid's shoulder lightly as she bounced after Derek.

Derek took her down to Garcia's office where the tech analyst was doing something with her computers. He thought he saw Anna's picture when he pushed open the door, but the oh so familiar blue screens and black boxes were in place by the time the door opened up all the way. "Anna Campbell, I want you to meet Penelope Garcia, our tech analyst and computer genius." Garcia smiled at them, "Garcia, this is Anna Campbell, our occult specialist."

"Ms. Garcia," Anna said, offering her hand.

"It's just Garcia," Garcia replied as she shook it.

"Oh, well, call me Anna," Anna said, she eyed the computers, "So you really know a lot about computers then."

"Yes I do," Garcia said, she tilted her head slightly, "are you a computer fan?"

"Not really," Anna replied, "I'm more of the knife and gun sort. My brother Sam, though, he's all about computers." She reached into her jacket and pulled out a piece of paper, "Agent Morgan, I mean, Derek says you're the research person around here."

"Among other things," Garcia replied.

"Well, thing is, I can't always count on my contacts to come up with information," Anna said, "and there's a group in Europe dedicated to scanning every occult book they get their hands on. I thought, I have an account with the Europeans and maybe, I could pass my log-in to you if I need help."

"I'm not sure what I can do," Garcia said.

"I was just thinking that someone as fast as Reid and the others say you are, you could sort the databases faster than I can," Anna said with a quirky grin, "You think I pulled the ritual out of my ass?" She offered up the piece of paper, "This is the site, and my log-on." As Garcia reached for it, she pulled it back, "You can't just hack the site either. You hack and they'll pull it faster than you can say a Hail Mary and there are people who depend on these sites. A lot of them are dirt poor or worse, so this is the only way they can study this. Not to mention that if you run a hack using my log on, then _I'll_ get kicked off site and my paid account is part of what pays their bills."

"I won't," Garcia said.

"I'm trusting you," Anna said and put the paper in her hand; "Although, if you happen to take a look at the security and want to suggest upgrades, I can put in touch with their security programmer."

Garcia gripped the paper, "I won't betray your trust," she said quietly.

Her phone rang, startling all of them. Garcia hit speaker, "Penelope Garcia," she said.

"Garcia, is Campbell down there?" Hotchner asked.

"Yes sir, she is," Garcia replied.

"Campbell, your tow truck is here." Hotchner said.

Campbell grinned, "If you two will excuse me." She turned and all but ran from the room.

"She really likes her truck," Derek said as Garcia hung up the phone.

"Derek," Garcia said.

"Yes, Baby Girl?" Derek asked.

"I ran that background check," Garcia said, "and I couldn't find anything."

"What do you mean?" Derek said.

"I mean, there's nothing. There is no record of Anna Campbell anywhere," Garcia replied, her features tight with fear and worry. Her phone rang again, "Penelope Garcia," Garcia said.

The voice was computer generated and barely sounded human, and Derek would not be ashamed to admit that it sent chills down his spine.

"You are looking into the background of Anna Campbell. I suggest you stop, you aren't going to like what you'll find if you continue down this road."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No wound received in the field,  
> Can compare to the pain,  
> Of losing a child
> 
> Wolfpoet


End file.
